Dads Letters 

World Journgy 



BERT WILSON 










Class Q- 4- 4 - A 



COHRIGtiT DEPOSm 



Digitized by the Internet Archive 
in 2011 with funding from 
The Library of Congress 



http://www.archive.org/details/dadslettersonworOOwils 



Dad's Letters 

on a 

World Journey 



BERT WILSON 



Published by 

POWELL & WHITE, 

Cincinnati, Ohio 



Gaao 



COPYRIGHT 1921 

POWELL a WHITE 

PUBLISHERS 

CINCINNATI. O. 



WAV !3i32j 



SCI.A614466 



03 



THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED 
To all American boys and girls who are 
willing to reach out across the world 
with a neighborly handclasp, to the boys 
and girls of every land, whenever and 
wherever a "fellow needs a friend." 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

A Landlubber at Sea 11 to 22 

Yokohoma to Calcutta 25 to 62 

Three Months with the Missionaries 65 to 130 

A Week in the Jungle 133 to 162 

On the Globe Trotter's Trail 165 to 184 

From Bombay to Belgrade 187 to 235 

The Home Stretch 239 to 257 



INDEX TO ILLUSTRATIONS 

From Photographs taken by Mr. Wilson 

PAGE 

Off to the Jungle Frontispiece 

Sunder and Her Friend 96 

Mr. Wideawake Caught at Last 128 

The Boys at Damoh Have Exercises Every Morning.. ..144 

"The Boys Began Making Their Little Huts" 160 

On the Road to Damoh 192 

The Religious Festival at Bandakpur 240 



APOLOGY 



I returned last summer from a nine months' 
trip around the world, including a full five 
months' stay in India. I had notes and part 
manuscript ready for a much needed missionary 
volume on India. This is not that volume. Its 
preparation has been deferred by the removal of 
office and home from Cincinnati to St. Louis. 

In the meantime some of my friends who 
had read parts of my travel letters to my children 
thought them, although not written for publica- 
tion, of sufficient general interest to be pub- 
lished. Others of my friends doubted the wis- 
dom of such a volume on the ground that it 
would not be primarily a missionary volume. 
Like the school teacher who was prepared to 
teach that the world was either flat or round as 
the case required, I agree with both views. 

It is true that this can scarcely be con- 
sidered a missionary volume at all. But they are 
the real letters of a "Dad" who was trying to 
write the things of interest from week to week 
to a wide awake bunch of growing youngsters, 
who according to their mother devoured them 
eagerly, and whose interest in the strange 
peoples of the world was not lessened, because 
there was the touch of adventure and the thrill 
of the jungle mixed in. 

If they are a fair sample of the average 
family, then this little volume may find a wel- 
come around many a fireside. If it does not, 
this is my apology. If it does, this is also my 
apology for not releasing it sooner. 

BERT WILSON. 




A LANDLUBBER AT SEA 



A LANDLUBBER AT SEA 



September 18. 
Dear Star: 

This is the first day out in the real Pacific 
but the second day of the journey. I am still 
going good without any signs of sea-sickness. 
The fog horn kept blowing all night long and I 
heard it most of the time. We had a good break- 
fast, but I don't like the cooking very well. They 
don't seem to know how to cook eggs and make 
coffee. 

We are out of sight of land. It looks queer 
to see nothing but water, water everywhere. 
The boat keeps up a continual rocking. It climbs 
up over the waves and goes down again, and 
then repeats the process over and over. 

This morning in order to keep up a good 
appetite, I made twenty trips around the deck. 
Mr. Holt and I stepped it and found that it takes 
twenty trips to make a mile, so we have made 
several miles today. 

September 19. 
Let this day be forgotten and remembered 
no more forever! 

[11] 



DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

September 20. 
Dear Roma: 

I did about seven miles yesterday on the 
deck. They call it getting your sea legs. The 
boat rocks and rolls over the waves, never stop- 
ping. You wobble around when you try to walk, 
and your brain unconsciously tries to hold the 
ship straight in the waves. It sort of pulls down 
on the top of your head, but I am getting now 
so I can let go and pay no attention to it. There 
are a lot of sick folks on board, but most of them 
are getting better. The air in the state rooms 
is not very good, especially when they close the 
port holes to scrub the decks. One old girl 
opened the port hole after the boy had closed it. 
When they scrubbed, the water splashed in and 
spoiled her good dress. The word passed quickly 
all over the ship and now the ladies don't open 
the port holes! We are all like a lot of whales, 
we come up out of these stuffy old state rooms 
for air. 

The ocean is very wonderful. It roars, and 
frets, and raves ceaselessly. Up and down, down 
and up, over and down, and then all over again, 
no rest, no let up, never a minute when the boat 
and the ocean are not raring at and fighting 
each other. This ship ploughs right into the big 
waves as well as the little ones, day and night, 
no stops, just on and on and on. No land in sight, 
just horizon of water and mist everywhere. I 
think we owe quite a debt to Columbus, for if 
those sailors were like some of the people on 

[12] 



A LANDLUBBER AT SEA 



board here, no wonder they wanted to turn back. 
I saw a great flock of sea gulls yesterday. 

September 21. 
My Dear Lenore: 

Yesterday was very stormy. We ran into 
the equinoctial storm and believe me, sister, 
she was some storm. The waves about sundown 
were dashing twenty or thirty feet high, and the 
Monteagle was riding them like a cowboy on a 
bucking broncho. Once the front end dived down 
so deep that the propeller cleared the water. It 
shook the whole boat. 

All night long I could feel the boat rocking 
over those great angry restless waves. But to- 
day it is very nice, not much breeze, except the 
regular ocean wind, and the sun is shining, the 
first real sun we have had on the trip. The sky 
is clear and the ocean is as blue as the sky. 
The sun shining down on it makes it look like a 
sea of glass. 

This boat is a regular moving city. It is a 
train — folks going from one station to another. 
It is a sleeping car — plenty of old stuffy state 
rooms. It is an athletic field — we play shuffle 
board, deck quoits — horse shoes made out of rope, 
hockey, and several other games. It's a freight 
train — they have a thousand tons of freight on 
board. It is a public library — quite a large num- 
ber of volumes. It's a laundry — you can get 
work done fairly well. It's a restaurant — the boy 
will bring you an apple or soup, grapes or other 

[13] 



DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

food up on deck. There are several other things 
that it is — but there is one thing that it is not f it 
is not home. No good home cooking, no trees 
in the yard, no quiet rest, no good sleeping 
rooms. 

There are nearly a thousand people on board 
including employees. Nearly two hundred men 
are employed at the various tasks. 

I heard a Spanish conundrum today: What 
is it that is full of meat in the day time and is 
empty at night with its mouth wide open? A 
shoe. 

September 22. 
My dear Violet: 

Today it is stormy again. When we came 
down to meals we found that there were board 
racks on the table to keep the dishes from slid- 
ing off when the boat tosses over the high waves. 

A French nurse is the stewardess of the ship. 
She was talking to some of us last night about 
how nice the homes were in France. She said: 
"In America there is no home life. When night 
comes the children all want to go down town to 
the picture show. But in France as soon as the 
lights are on, ali the children come in the house 
and have a nice time with all the family to- 
gether." I guess she has only seen one type of 
American home. 

It takes about a thousand tons of coal to 
take this ship across. They burn fifty or sixty 
tons every day. 

Daddy, still on the go. 

[14] 



A LANDLUBBER AT SEA 



September 23. 
My dear Beth: 

There is a little boy on board who had a 
birthday on Sunday. Yesterday he was playing 
on the deck with a tennis ball. He was trying 
to make it jump under his legs like you girls do. 
He gave it a hard bounce on the deck and it went 
overboard and fell in the water. We could see 
it jumping around on the waves, but there was 
no way for him to get it, so it is out somewhere 
on the ocean all alone. 

I have read two books already and have 
started on another. The sea gulls are still follow- 
ing us. Sometimes they light on the waves, sit 
there and rest awhile, then fly around and up 
and over and back of the boat continually. If 
anyone throws a banana peel out on the water, 
they pounce down on it to see if it is good to eat. 
They are looking for something to be thrown 
away all the time. 

Here's something interesting: They carry 
seven hundred tons of fresh water on this boat, 
to cook with, to drink, and to use in their 
engines. You see they can't use the salt water 
in their big engines. There are two large en- 
gines, and both of them work without stopping 
day or night. Twenty-four Chinese boys fire 
these engines. Six working at a time, taking 
turns. They are called stokers. Then there are 
several tenders who bring the coal up to the fire- 
men, and four boys, called greasers, who do 
nothing but oil the engines. Your Daddy. 

[151 



DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

September 25. 
My Dear Elaine: 

Now that you are going to school I will ask 
you some questions. How many legs has your 
Daddy? Two? No, that is not right. He has 
four legs, twoland legs and two sea legs. He has 
grown those two sea legs since he left home. 
I need my sea legs again today for they know 
how to act when the boat "dips the dips" as she 
is doing now. The air is great. It is cool and I 
have had my overcoat and sweater on every day 
since I left land. 

There is a place on this boat that they call 
the "crow's nest." It is in the front part of the 
ship on a high mast. It is where the man called 
the "lookout" stays. He goes up there for two 
hours and keeps a sharp lookout ahead for any 
danger, then he comes down and another man 
goes up for two hours. They keep that up day 
and night. 

There is a rope about two blocks long tied 
on the back of the ship with a sort of rudder- 
like thing tied on the end of it that revolves in 
the water. Then there is a little machine on it, 
where it is fastened to the boat, like a speed- 
ometer on an automobile, that tells how fast the 
boat is going per hour. 

September 26. 
Lost. This is the day we crossed the 180° 
meridian and lost a day. We went to bed Thurs- 
day night and when we woke up it was Saturday 

[16] 



A LANDLUBBER AT SEA 



morning. We have been turning our watches 
back a half hour or twenty-four minutes, or 
twenty-nine minutes every day. But now that 
we have lost a day, we will have to turn our 
watches back twenty-four hours and twenty-four 
minutes ! 

September 27. 
Dearest little Arlene: 

We are near a long string of islands called 
the Aleutian Islands. It has been so stormy that 
we have only caught one short glimpse of them 
through the mists. But we saw the most beauti- 
ful whitei parrots this morning. They are great 
big fellows and fly in front and on the sides 
of the boat, but never behind. The sea gulls 
seem always to fly behind. One big white parrot 
went with us for several miles this afternoon, 
and sometimes he would come very close. They 
are called Aleutian parrots. 

It has been snowing up in the islands and 
while it has not snowed here at the boat, it is 
very cold. 

I am reading again Mark Twain's "Huckle- 
berry Finn." If you girls have not read that 
book you must get it out of the library and read 
it. It is the first real touch of the United States 
that I have had on board. I have had to laugh 
dozens of times reading it. 

Say, Jodie dear, whom do you think I saw 
today? When I went back into my room after 
breakfast I saw the cunningest little girl sitting 

[17] 



DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

in my room. I said to her, "Who are you?" 
And she said, "Don't you know who I am?" 1 
said: "You look just like a little girl that sits 
up on my cellar door and doesn't want to have her 
picture taken." And then she said, "That's who I 
am. I am that little girl and I am sitting on 
your cellar door." When I looked more closely 
I saw it was you, sure enough, out here on the 
ocean sitting on the cellar door, and Star in a 
swing, and Violet lying down on the ocean read- 
ing, and Mamma and Lenore and Roma stand- 
ing out by a tree in the ocean, and the rest of the 
kids too. Then I found that the fairy Graflex 
had made all my family come out here with me. 
Isn't that a nice story? 

Daddy. 

September 29. 
Would you like to know some of my new 
vocabulary? 

Boy. Name for any Chinaman who is an 
employee on the ship. Room boy, deck boy, 
bath boy, messenger boy, lookout boy, etc. Boy 
do this, boy do that, even though some of these 
chaps are forty years old. 

Bow. Short o. The front end of the ship. 

Stern. The rear end of the ship. 

Fore. Any place forward on the ship from 
where you happen to be. 

Aft. Any place rearward on the ship from 
where you happen to be. 

[18] 



A LANDLUBBER AT SEA 



Star Board Side. The right hand side as you 
face the bow. 

Port Side. The left hand side as you face the 
bow. 

Bridge. A little bridge just over the bow 
about twelve feet long. We can go up there on a 
nice day and watch the boat cut the waves. Only 
two nice days thus far. 

Log. The little rope and speedometer on the 
rear of the ship to measure the speed. 

Log. The record book where all the records, 
reports of the ship are kept, including longitude, 
latitude, miles traveled each day and all other 
necessary items of information. 

Quarter Master's Deck. The deck above the 
main deck where an officer is on duty day and 
night. It is up towards the bow, and is the part 
of the ship that every employee salutes when he 
comes on board. 

Crow's Nest. The little place on the front 
mast where the lookout stays. 

Lookout. The man who stays in the crow's 
nest and looks ahead for rocks, vessels, and any 
other danger. 

Steerage. The deck below where the third 
class passengers stay. The first class passengers 
are not allowed to go down there nor see the 
steerage but we smell it every day. There is no 
rule against that. Only Asiatics travel in the 
steerage. 

Hold. The baggage room two stories down 
where we go to get our trunks. 

[19] 



DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 



Steward. Man who has entire charge of the 
kitchen and dining room, food, etc. 

Stewardess. Woman who is nurse and chief 
assistant to the ship doctor. 

Tea. The afternoon time, four thirty, when 
we drink tea and eat cakes. The tea is always 
too strong and the coffee is too thin. 

Beg Pardon? The word everyone uses when 
he doesn't understand, and wants you to repeat 
what you said. They sort of bark it at you. 

Purser. The cashier and bookkeeper of the 
boat. 

Dining Saloon. Just the plain dining room, 

It is raining again today but not so gloomy 
and foggy. It is interesting to see the raindrops 
patter down on the water. It looks like little 
fishes jumping up out of the water. 

October 1. 
Dearest Girls: 

DING-DING-DING-DING!! A sharp bell 
rings out and you see Chinamen hurrying and 
scurrying and chattering like monkeys. Here 
they come carrying big boxes of beef on their 
shoulders, and others carrying great cans of dog 
biscuits as large as a garbage can — that is the 
cans are, not the biscuits. Others have sprung 
to the life boats, and are standing at attention, 
the boxes and cans are set down in order and 
their carriers are at attention. It is the fire 
alarm, for inspection only. When the gong 
sounded to go back to work one Chinaman 

[20] 



A LANDLUBBER AT SEA 



grabbed up his garbage can in a hurry, bumped 
it on his shoulder so hard that the lid flew off 
and out rolled a dozen dog biscuits. They are 
big hard crackers about four inches in diameter 
and an inch thick. We grabbed one up and shot 
it for a shuffle board. 

LOOK-LOOK-LOOK! ! Off about a quarter 
of a mile on the port side an old whale is blow- 
ing his sperm high in the air. At last I have seen 
one. He was too far off to see well, only the top 
of his back now and then, but we could see the 
water go spraying up in the air ten or fifteen 
feet high. It was a great sight. 

LOOK! This way! Quick! Off to the star- 
board is a fine school of porpoises, about twenty 
of them, and they are having a high old time. 
The cry rang out while I was shaving this morn- 
ing, and out of the port hole I could see them 
splendidly. They are about four or five feet long, 
and we could see three or four of them jump out 
of the water at the same time. The curve of their 
bodies is like the curve of the body of a salmon 
trying to go up over the falls in a stream. 

ZOOM-ZOOM. The morning inspection of 
the ship is about to take place. The captain and 
his chief officers meet in the parlor to start. They 
come to the dining room where the boys are 
lined up and the head waiter salutes them, and 
they go nosing around to see if the tables are in 
order, the silverware polished, floor clean, etc. 
They pass to the kitchen where the head cook 
meets them, salutes, and then escorts them 

[21] 



DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

through. They go up on the promenade deck 
where the deck steward meets them, salutes, and 
they take a look all over the deck. They go to 
the head "room boy" and take a turn looking 
over the rooms to see that they are properly 
kept. They go to the engine rooms where the 
chief engineer meets them, salutes, and they in- 
spect the engines. And so it goes over the whole 
ship two or three times a week. 

We had a new kind of breakfast food this 
morning. It is pumalo. It is very much like a 
grapefruit, except larger, and the meaty part 
not quite so tart and juicy, but sweeter. They 
serve it by peeling back the outer skin, then 
separating the sections. Each person is supposed 
to take about two sections, when really he wants 
four! 

The sea is wonderful today. Hardly a breeze. 
It is as calm as the Ohio when we went up to 
Coney Island. It is like a crying, feverish child 
that has thrown itself and worried and fretted 
for many nights and then the fever going down, 
it sleeps quietly and peacefully upon its mother's 
breast. It is such a comfort to have just plain 
peaceful sailing. 

My appetite is doing wonders, and if this 
keeps up I will let out my belt about day after 
tomorrow. 

Dad Wilson. 



[22] 




YOKOHOMA TO CALCUTTA 



YOKOHOMA TO CALCUTTA 



Tokyo, October 7. 
Dear Girls: 

This morning Miss Bertha Clawson showed 
me through the Girls' School. It is the one that 
Mr. R. A. Long gave the money for, you remem- 
ber. It is quite a wonderful school. There are 
about one hundred girls, a number of them liv- 
ing in the dormitory. There is not a chair, nor 
a bed, nor any piece of furniture in the rooms, ex- 
cept a little low study table just high enough for 
them to study on, sitting on their heels. They sit 
on a little thin sofa cushion to study. The mat- 
tresses for their beds are put away in the closet. 
One girl brought out her bed and sheets and thick 
covers and showed me just how it was done. 
They all have the thick clean heavy matting. 
Every morning the matron goes into all the 
rooms to see that they are kept neat, and it 
would be a fine lesson for a certain double 
quartet I know to see how scrupulously clean 
they keep their own rooms. 

The little dining room has one piece of fur- 
niture, and that is the little low table. At the en- 
trance of the school there is a large box or bas- 
ket where they leave their wooden shoes. Many 

[25] 



DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

of the girls leave them on the floor at the en- 
trance, and it is a wonder to me how they ever 
tell them apart. They say they can tell them 
apart by the feel of them. 

At the kindergarten building everything is 
so nice and well arranged, and in Japanese style. 
There were about thirty-five little kiddies dressed 
in their pretty bright kimonos. They all leave 
their little wooden shoes at the door the same as 
the older ones. They bowed to me and smiled in 
their polite Japanese way. 

Miss Parker's domestic science building is 
great. They have one room where they teach 
how all the things should be properly served. 
Then a guest room where they teach how to 
serve a meal, or serve an afternoon tea, etc. Then 
another room where they are taught how to 
serve a "foreign" or American meal. Here they 
have American dishes, knives and forks, etc. 
The kitchen is a beauty. 

In each building there is a teacher's retir- 
ing room. It is the room where they go for the 
ten minutes between classes. It is nicely kept 
and has a complete tea set, including the little 
charcoal burner to heat the tea on. They go 
there and have tea between every class. When 
you see the little wooden cups I am sending you, 
you will know that they will not get too much tea 
even if they do take it several times a day. 

"I'm hungry" Dad. 



[26] 



YOKOHOMA TO CALCUTTA 



Osaka, October 8. 
My Darling Kiddies: 

Well, the ride on the Japanese train was not 
a huge success. The upper was too short for me, 
so I had to fix my body in the shape of the letter 
Z. When I got tired and had to turn over, I had 
to straighten out my Z, turn him over, and then 
bend him back again. 

At Osaka they have a very fine Institute. 
We had a conference of the workers there, about 
twelve altogether, and after my talk to them, 
they served little cakes and tea. One fine old 
Japanese teacher made me an address of wel- 
come. At -five o'clock, they had their chapel for 
the girls, and I spoke to them. At seven o'clock 
they had the chapel for boys. There were three 
hundred boys present, and I made another speech 
to them. They were very attentive. In all I 
made seven speeches in Japan, all through an 
interpreter. 

In the afternoon, Mr. Erskine took me 
through the famous Tennoji Temple. I had din- 
ner at Robinson's and supper at Erskine's, and 
had cooked chestnuts again. I had a good deal 
of fun with the kiddies, four in each family. 
They seemed to have a good time after I got 
them jarred loose from being scared. 

And now for a lesson on Japanese courtesy. 
At the Sunday morning communion service, the 
pastor bows when he hands the plates to the 
deacons, and the deacons bow when they take 
them. At each row of seats the deacons bow and 

[27] 






DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

the members bow when they take the loaf and 
the cup. When they return with the plates and 
hand them to the minister, he bows and they bow. 
When they pass the collection plates the minister 
bows again as he hands them the plates and they 
bow as they receive them, and the same series 
of bows goes on as they are passed. If a man does 
not wish to put anything in, he makes a bow 
to the deacon and the deacon passes on. 

When I was introduced to some of them, they 
bowed two or three times, and so did I. When 
I got up to speak, I made a bow and the whole 
audience bowed to me in return. When I had 
finished I bowed and they bowed. If a man meets 
a friend on the street, he takes off his hat and 
bows two or three times and the other one does 
the same. A man came to the train to see a 
friend and they bowed three or four times, and 
when the train pulled out they each made two or 
three bows. 

In the stores the clerks bow when you go up 
to the counter, they bow when you pay, and bow 
when they give you back the change. When the 
school boys meet Mr. McCoy on the streets down 
town they take off their hats and bow. McCoy's 
twelve year old boy took me down to the Hongo 
church and we met one of the school boys and 
he took off his hat and bowed to the McCoy boy. 
The girls bow to Miss Clawson. 

Mr. Erskine took me to a very famous 
maker of porcelain ware, a man who has won 
prizes at several World's Fairs. When we went 
[28] 






YOKOHOMA TO CALCUTTA 



in they put little cloth slippers on over our 
shoes, and we went up stairs. The proprietor 
bowed and soon the maid came with some tea 
and cakes, and we ate while they brought us out 
some very, very, beautiful pieces. Some plates 
and little bowls were $25.00 each. I think it is the 
finest work of that kind I have ever seen. If 
mother had been with me I know she would have 
deserted me at that shop, for the dishes were so 
pretty! They were all so high priced that I 
could not afford to buy any of them. But when 
we left he bowed just the same and gave me his 
card and invited me back sometime. 

Even the old priest at the temple bowed 
when we asked him a few questions about the 
worship. It is a polite land, and I like it. 

October 9. 
Dear Girls: 

I had another night ride on a Japanese 
train. This time I had what they call a "double 
lower," and had plenty of room. The trains are 
fairly good, only they have just one wash room 
and toilet for both men and women. I got up 
early and shaved before the rest were ready. 

I passed through a lovely country all day 
Thursday. The folks were all busy. It is the 
time of the rice harvest and almost every avail- 
able acre of ground is planted to rice except 
what they use for their gardens and orchards. 
Men and women were in the rice fields cutting 
it with grass knives like the one we cut grass 

[29] 



DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

with in the yard. Think of the work it must take 
to cut the crop all by hand for a land of 60,000,- 
000 people. Usually the women were out with 
the men helping hang it up to dry and cure. 

October 10. 
Moji — Aboard the Monteagle 
Ladies Wilson: 

It seemed rather good to get back to the boat 
and see the folks again. I have two new cabin 
mates, both Englishmen. One of them has a 
Chinese valet. In the morning the valet comes 
in to help him dress. The valet hands him his 
shirt, his socks, and his shoes and collar. When 
he gets ready to comb his hair the Chinaman 
hands him his bottle of hair tonic, and then puts 
the bottle away, and hands him his comb and 
brush. Helps him on with his coat and vest, 
and when the old chap goes out, the boy picks up 
all his things. 

All night long the coolies were coaling the 
boat. They brought out big barges of coal in 
their sail boats, came alongside, formed lines 
up the ladder and filled little baskets and passed 
them up the side from one to another, and 
dumped them in the big bin. 

October 11. 
Dearest Eight: 

Tomorrow we land in Shanghai, and I will 
set foot for the first time on the soil of China. 
This morning as soon as breakfast was over, 
[30] 



YOKOHOMA TO CALCUTTA 



some one raised the cry of "whale." On the star 
board side there were two big fellows sporting 
around as quietly as you please. They would 
go under for a minute, then come out and blow 
water in the air. Soon we saw another a little 
closer in and within a half hour we had seen ten 
or fifteen. They seemed to be taking their morn- 
ing baths. 

The sea has now become a sort of yellow 
color. The Yangste pours its yellow dirty water 
into the sea day after day until it is colored this 
far out. It must be some river to do such a big 
job. But then I have heard that the Congo does 
the same thing, and I presume that if it is per- 
mitted in Africa, it should be allowed in China 
also. 

In one of the meetings in Japan, a new 
missionary called upon a man to lead in prayer. 
He was not a member and did not know how to 
pray, so he said to her, "Please excuse me, for 
I do not perform." 

This is the 11th and I have had no news of 
the World Series except the first game. In 
Tokyo I went to the newspaper office and climbed 
three stories. The editor opened all of his new 
cable messages for me but he did not have 
further news. 

October 14. 
One Day Out of Shanghai. 
Dearest Kiddies: 

How do you think I was awakened this 
morning? Just as I opened the tail end of my 

[31] 



DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

brain I heard a rooster crowing. I thought I was a 
boy again on the farm, and I could imagine the 
green fields and the cows and horses, and the 
barn full of hay, and the granaries full of corn 
and wheat. I thought I would get up and go 
out and milk the cows and do the chores before 
breakfast. Just then someone called. It was 
the Chinese boy saying, "Tea is ready, Sir." I 
was not on the farm at all, but away out on the 
China Sea, and a Chinaman was bringing me tea 
and toast to be eaten in bed two hours before 
breakfast. I wanted to go out and hunt up the 
rooster and take off my hat to him for at least 
giving me that good dream of the farm, even if 
it did not prove to be real. 

Our little coast steamer is doing very well. 
The name of it is the "Kwongsang." We are 
staying in sight of land nearly all the way. If 
you get out your geography you can follow me 
down the east coast of China from Shanghai to 
Hongkong. We are now going South — South- 
west. They have a direction, "west-south-west," 
and another, "south-west by west" which is a 
little more west than "west-south-west." We 
are now in the good clear ocean water again, so 
tomorrow we can have our salt water baths. 
There is no danger of running out of water, as 
no company has a meter on the Pacific. 

We had a wonderful sunset last night. What 
could be more beautiful than a sunset in the 
China Sea! The sun went down behind a small 
thin cloud. When it was about a third down, it 

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was like a great ball of fire. The atmosphere was 
such that all the glare was taken away and you 
could look it squarely in the face. The ball of fire 
and the cloud seemed to reflect perfectly on the 
western horizon. The whole west was a wonder- 
ful golden glow. Farther up in the sky it sort of 
faded out into a mellow kalsomine gold, but at 
the horizon and close up to the sun it was the 
richest yellow imaginable. It seemed that some 
great painter with an ocean full of golden paint 
had dipped his brush into the wonderful color, 
and lavishly but most artistically painted a per- 
fect sunset for these humble folks of the far east. 
Off to the side of the sun were several very small 
clouds just a little in the background. They 
seemed like little Chinese cloud assistants, who 
were there to hand the brushes to the wonderful 
artist. It seemed that these poor folks out here 
are denied so many of the finest and best things 
of life, that the Lord is making a little of it up to 
them in sunsets. 

October 15. 

The rooster crowed again this morning and I 
could hear the sheep bleating for their breakfast, 
and the chatter of the Chinese in the steerage. 
Those sheep have rather intelligent looking 
faces, and long Roman noses that make them 
look quite distinguised. 

I read a new book yesterday, out of a small 
library of the second officer. His library is very 
interesting, for most of the books are brand new 
to me. I did not know there were such books. 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

Here are some of their titles: "The Law of 
Storms," Strong's "Nautical Tables," "Sailor's 
Pocket Book," "Oliver's Shipping Law Manual," 
"Practical Seamanship," "Davis' Star Azimuth 
Tables," "Ship Owners and Masters." 

I have discovered how they feed the coolies 
in the steerage. They have what they call a 
"checker," a Chinaman who arranges them in 
groups of five. Then the Chinese waiters pass 
around five bowls and five little crock spoons 
and five pairs of chopsticks. They bring out a 
large basket of rice, holding a gallon or more. 
The Chinamen make no move. Soon another 
waiter brings out a tray with four or five large 
bowls on it which contain some chopped up vege- 
tables, pieces of fish and chicken, and other 
Chinese trimmings. When that fellow appears, 
they begin to smile and chatter. He sets the tray 
on the floor, and they all gather around it. The 
first thing they do is to take their little spoons 
and dip rice out of the big basket, filling their 
bowls full. Then they grab their chop sticks and 
sail in. They start out by taking a big mouthful 
of rice, then they dip in the other bowls and pick 
up small pieces of fish with their chopsticks. 
They lay this on the top of their rice and pitch it 
with a big helping of rice into their gaping 
hungry mouths. They eat and chatter until rice, 
fish and everything else is gone. They get plenty 
of it, such as it is, and seem to relish it as much 
as we do our food in the first class cabins, but 
with much less formality. 
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October 16. 
Dearest Eight. 

We tied up last night about five at a town 
named Swatow. The ship had a lot of cargo to 
unload. Swatow is famous all over China for its 
drawn work and laces. Men came on board with 
big grips full of the nicest table covers, doilies, 
handkerchiefs, sideboard covers, etc. They are 
great traders out here in the east and none of 
them have "one price only." They will ask you 
a certain price and expect you to offer them 
about half that much. I know if you had been 
here you would have broken me up in business. 
I could not resist buying just one piece, and I 
know you will like it very much. The material is 
the best quality and is called grass cloth, and 
very much resembles Chinese silk. It is sup- 
posed to be very durable and can be laundered 
without hurting it. I understand there is no 
other place in China where they make this kind 
of material, so you can show this to your friends 
with some degree of pride. 

Swatow is also famous for what they call the 
Swatow bear. I walked up town last night, and 
right on the shore, in the main part of town I 
saw two great big fellows with several little ones. 
There were people all around them, but they did 
not seem to pay any attention. Two big brown 
fellows had crawled up on the stern of one of 
those small fishing boats, and were leisurely 
taking their evening bath. They would take 
water out of a big bucket with their front paws 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

and throw it over their bodies, rubbing as if they 
really enjoyed it. They took up the bucket in 
their front paws and poured water over their 
shoulders and backs. When they stood up on 
their hind legs, they were about as tall as I am. 
Finally when they had finished bathing, they 
took an old dirty towel, dried their bodies, then 
put on a sort of breech cloth, and went on shore, 
disappearing in the crowd. It's all a matter of 
spelling, these are spelled "bare." 

Poor old China! How she needs every- 
thing! Disorganized, inefficient, dirty, ignorant, 
distrusted, unsanitary, victims of poor ancestors, 
what a mass of conglomerate humanity it is! 
The church has the whole job before it here. 
Christianity must not only get these folks to join 
the church, but must clean up these meat shops, 
and these dirty restaurants, and put covers on 
their vegetables; in fact clean up most every- 
thing about their whole lives, or else the nation 
some of these days will die of dirt. It seems to 
me that absolutely everything is yet to be done 
in China. 

Yours at sea, 

Dad. 

Hong Kong, October 23. 
Dear Star: 

Dr. Hardy and I were invited to dinner by a 
Chinese family. Dr. Jew Hawk was educated in 
America. I used to hear about him when I was 
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younger but had never met him. He is now 
practicing medicine in Hong Kong. 

When we went out on the street, the son 
called the sedan chair men, and they came 
swarming up to us like bees. He told us to get 
in, and soon we had a long procession of six 
chairs going up the steep hill, with my chair 
behind the others because I was so heavy. We 
arrived at their home on "breezy point," a very 
beautiful point overlooking the harbor. 

The dining room was as wide as ours, but 
longer, with a nice big long table. They had 
some of the daintiest little Chinese flowers on the 
table, in the Chineseiest little vases imaginable. 
There is a daughter Macy, about twenty-four, a 
son about twenty, and the father and mother. 
They all speak fairly good English. The wife 
and girl have straight black hair, but kept in 
nice neat fashion. They were dressed in their 
Chinese costumes, a blouse and trousers, both 
made of some fine silk material, which looked 
very pretty. 

The dinner was great, all served in American 
style. There were seven courses. 

First Course: Salad, tomatoes, lettuce, eggs, 
small pieces of very tender white fish, and dress- 
ing, all mixed up. Good. 

Second Course: Noodle soup. Nice and thick, 
small pieces of toast scattered on top. 

Third Course: Mutton chops, potato chips, 
peas. 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

Fourth Course: Boiled chicken and gravy, 
mashed potatoes, and asparagus. Very good. 

Fifth Course : Cake, peaches and cream, tea. 

Sixth Course : Fruit. Bananas, and persim- 
mons. Yum-yum. 

Seventh Course: Nuts. English walnuts 
and peanuts. 

At the end of the last course, the two boys 
who waited on the table brought hot towels, and 
stood by our chairs with them. They are to 
wipe the hands with, and, if desired, the face. In 
hot weather, they use them on the face. They 
were nice and clean and perfumed. 

Macy is a fine bright intelligent girl, well 
educated and I could wish for you no better 
companions and friends than girls as refined and 
ladylike, and full of life as she. 

They are going on what they call a "walk- 
ing picnic" on Saturday afternoon. They have 
invited us to go along. 

Dear Roma and Lenore: 

Instead of getting you a pony to keep in the 
"garage," I have decided to get you a jinricksha 
and a coolie to take you around. We could feed 
the coolie cheaper than we could feed the pony. 
There are five modes of travel here in Hongkong. 
Walking, automobile — only a few, street car — 
called the "tram," two stories high; the sedan 
chair, and the jinricksha. Nearly everybody 
who wants to ride takes a jinricksha, if they 
are down on level ground, or a chair if they want 
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to go up the hill. The chairmen and the ricksha 
men are on every corner and about three times 
in between. You can catch one of them much 
quicker than a Cincinnati car. In fact, if you 
even look in their direction they come running 
to you. 

When it rains, they have a cover for the 
chairs which is removed in good weather, as it 
lightens the load. The rickshas also have a little 
top like a buggy that can be put up in case of 
rain. When it rains, the men put on a wide 
bamboo hat, the original merry widow hat, and 
a grass coat. They look like sheaves of grain 
going up the streets with those grass coats on. 

Yesterday I went down town to get a pair of 
colored glasses to wear on sunshiny days on the 
sea. I will need them from here on. I went in 
one store and they did not have what I wanted, 
so I started on and pretty soon I became con- 
scious that I was being followed. I went on and 
after while I looked out of the corner of my eye 
and saw a Chinese boy about twenty-five follow- 
ing me. I went into another store, but did 
not buy. When I came out he saluted me, and 
I thought perhaps he was going to shoot me 
or do something dreadful. He told me that down 
the street was a store that was cheaper, where I 
could get good glasses, and that he would show 
me. Well, the fact was that he was my guide. He 
had nominated himself, voted for himself, and 
officially confirmed his own appointment to be 
my guide. That seems to be a very ordinary 

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thing out here, for a man to show up who has 
been your guide for several blocks and you knew 
nothing about it. Those fellows can talk some 
English, and if you go into a place and buy, the 
store keeper gives them a small commission for 
having directed you there, which usually they 
did not. 

They have a queer way here of taking home 
meat from the market. They have small grass 
strings, and a man will buy a fish, tie a string 
around it and go up the street with his fish un- 
wrapped hanging from the end of the string. I 
have seen them carrying small pieces of meat 
that way, the liver and gizzard of a chicken, a 
few vegetables, and even two or three bananas. 
This is the fishiest town you ever saw. The men 
and women go out early in the morning into the 
harbor and catch their fish, then take them to 
the market. The fish markets here are many 
times more numerous than the Kroger stores 
are in Cincinnati. From the docks clear up 
through town, there are fifty-seven different 
varieties of fish-smell alone, let alone all the 
other smells. 

On every street there are little youngsters 
carrying their baby sisters on their backs. All 
have straight black braids of hair. Some of them 
are very cunning. Sometimes as I go along the 
street, the boys your size and younger look up at 
me with a good deal of awe. When I see some of 
them looking that way, I wink at them. Then 
they think I am a real human being, and you 

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ought to see them smile. There is one fellow 
who recognizes me every time I go down town. 

How I wish I could take you girls with me 
around this town! We could certainly have a 
fine time. There is only one place in town where 
ice cream can be bought, and it's a poor excuse 
for ice cream at that. 

Oh, yes, I must tell you about my bed. Do 
you remember that Chinese bridechamber up 
at Columbus? Well, mine is nearly like 
that. There are four high posts, one on each 
corner, as tall as I am. There is a double canopy 
or layer of mosquito net over the top. Then 
draped down on all four sides are long mosquito 
bars reaching to the floor. At night the boy 
comes in and tucks them up under the matting 
so that when I crawl in bed not a bug or mos- 
quito could ever get inside. 

October 26. 
Dear Violet and Beth: 

Now I must tell you about our "walking 
picnic," with my new Chinese friends. It was to 
be a trip up the mountains back of Hongkong. 
We all took jinrickshas out to the edge of town 
where the road began up the side of the moun- 
tain. We had along three boys to carry the 
"chow." 

We began to climb the long slope, and wind 
round and round the steep paths that kept get- 
ting higher and higher up the mountain side. 
There were eighteen of us altogether, about half 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

Chinese and half American and English. There 
was one English girl who wore a white middy 
with red trimmings. She was born here, and is 
very dark, but has a lovely English accent. She 
and I got to be real good chums. I told her all 
about Star and the rest of you girls. Her name 
is Constance, but her real name is "Connie." 
Dr. Hardy got two men with a sedan chair to 
carry Billy and Molly over the mountain. 

Mrs. Jew Hawk, and her daughter Macy, 
were the life of the crowd. Away up the moun- 
tain side we came to the first reservoir, which 
furnishes water for the city. The English have 
built a winding road which is very good, so we 
kept on until we came to the top of the first 
range. Then we started down that slope, on the 
other side. 

Part way down the slope, we found a nice 
spot and spread out our lunch. There were 
sandwiches, cheese, bananas, pears, two roast 
ducks, cooked a la Chinese with their necks, 
bills and heads on. Mrs. Jew Hawk started 
to carve one, and I volunteered to carve the 
other. Mine was rather tough and with not a 
very sharp knife, I got his head and neck in the 
sandy road. I thought the neck was so tough 
and had so much skin on it that it would not 
matter, as no one would eat it anyway. Imagine 
my surprise, when they passed it around, to see 
one of the Chinese men pick it out from the 
other good pieces, and go after it in hearty 
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fashion. He said he liked to suck the bones in 
the neck. 

They had lemon soda in bottles, and candy 
for sweets to top it all off with. We were all 
hungry, and everybody ate heartily. After a 
little rest we started on, as it was then nearing 
five o'clock. We climbed to the top of the second 
mountain. By the time we had reached the cross- 
ing point it was sundown, and we had the long 
slope to go down on the other side. The whole 
west was a wonderful golden glow. It was about 
three miles down the hill, and by this time 
Connie's Aunt had grown very tired and had to 
take her shoes off and walk in her stocking feet. 
To be gallant I had to offer her my shoes, and 
very much to my satisfaction, she thought she 
could go it better without them. 

By the time we got two miles down, it had 
grown very dark. When we went through the 
places where the trees touched, overhanging the 
road it looked like a dark tunnel. As we were 
going through one of those places, Mrs. Jew 
Hawk called out, "What if a lion or some pirates 
jump out at us." They all laughed to keep up 
their courage. For the last half mile Mrs. J. H. 
was very tired, also Connie, so I told them to 
hold on to my arms. They hung on pretty 
heavily and I carried my Graflex in front of me 
with both hands. 

About eight o'clock we reached the bottom 
of the mountain. A street car runs around the 
mountain. On one side was the harbor, with all 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

kinds of ships coming and going, on the other 
side the houses and buildings up the hill side all 
lighted up. It made a wonderful sight. I would 
not have missed that trip for a good deal. It 
gave me a new idea of the attitude the Chinese 
take toward their children. They were all so 
happy, and so congenial. They really know 
how to have a good picnic, with all the best 
things in it, and none of the bad. 

Dad. 

October 31, Aboard S. S. Kumsang. 
Dear Youngsters: 

We are three days out of Hongkong, and 
going good. The boat is a very much smaller 
one than the Monteagle, and the smell is differ- 
ent. Each boat has its distinctive smell. If a 
tree is known by its fruits, these boats are known 
by their smells. 

We made three hundred and fifty miles 
yesterday. We have traveled nearly straight 
south. We reach Singapore, our first stop, some- 
time Sunday afternoon. Get out a map, and 
you will see that Singapore is only about one 
and a half degrees north of the equator. 

The captain of this ship is a typical English- 
man; he is a jolly old fellow, about sixty, who 
has been a sailor for forty-four years. He has 
not been to England for six years, to see his 
wife, and he says they have not parted either. 
He has a cat named Thomas Henry. He calls 
out every morning: "Thomas Henry, where are 
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you?" Accent on the hen fairly strong, and on 
the ry stronger, and with a rising inflection 
suddenly chopped off. 

I bought a Saturday Evening Post in Hong- 
kong. It cost me twenty cents, so you see the 
high cost of living is international. 

Dear Girls: 

Here is the story of Thomas Henry, The 
Cat. 

Once upon a time in the year 1919, there 
lived a big black cat. This cat had a long black 
tail of which it was very proud. It had white 
on all four of its feet. The white feet looked as 
if they were little booties. Under its neck was a 
big white spot just the shape of a heart. Its 
eyes were a sort of whitish green, and it had 
long white whiskers. The name of this cat was 
Thomas Henry. 

Thomas Henry walked one day up the 
streets of a town called Singapore, all alone. 
The cat was very lonely and did not have a 
single friend in all that city. All the other 
cats and dogs seemed to be grouchy. As Thomas 
Henry walked along the street, a whistle on an 
incoming ship blew a long soothing blast. 

The cat made its way carefully through the 
crowded streets, dodging in and out among the 
jinrickshas as it went. Finally it came to the 
wharf. There, right in front, was a great steam 
ship just settling along the docks. In a moment, 
a long ladder called a gangway was let down, 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

and people began to get off. Thomas Henry 
decided that he would find out what kind of a 
looking place a ship was. 

So, when no one seemed to be looking, 
Thomas scrambled up the gangway in a hurry. 
For awhile he prowled around in the baggage 
room. Everything was hurry and skurry down 
there. Then he tried the steerage room, but it 
did not smell very good to the aristocratic cat. 
So Thomas Henry ascended the stairway to the 
upper deck. Everything was nice and clean up 
there. The cat decided then and there that this 
should be home, so he gave a quick look at the 
officers and picked out the man that he wanted 
as master. 

With a friendly look in his eye, he walked 
up to this man and gave a "meow." No answer. 
He brushed up against the man's leg and gave 
another "meow." 

"Well, upon my word," said the man, "here 
is my cat." Man and cat had never seen each 
other before, but it was a case of love at first 
sight. The man was the Captain of the ship, 
and his wife and family were living in England. 
He had a lonely feeling the same as the cat, so 
at once the two became fast friends. 

"Now," said the Captain, "what shall I call 
my new cat? I know what I'll call him. His 
name shall be Thomas Henry." That was the 
first time that the cat really knew what his name 
was, but when he heard that name announced he 
gave a knowing, cattish smile. He knew some- 

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YOKOHOMA TO CALCUTTA 



thing about himself that the Captain did not 
know. 

"Thomas Henry, are you a good sailor? We 
shall see," said the old gray-haired Captain who 
had been forty-four years at sea. The ship 
pulled out into the harbor, and six days later 
drew up at the wharf in Calcutta, and Thomas 
Henry's first sea voyage was over. Cargo was 
unloaded. New cargo and passengers were taken 
on. Then a long journey to Hongkong was 
begun. 

This is a distance of three thousand, two 
hundred miles. As the long journey began, 
Thomas Henry made several trips of investiga- 
tion around the ship. Every now and then, the 
same knowing, cattish smile would flit across 
the mouth and disappear at the end of the long 
white whiskers. Then one day Thomas Henry 
disappeared. No one knew where. All the decks 
were searched; all the officers were questioned; 
all the Chinese room boys and cooks were cross- 
questioned, but no one had any information as 
to the whereabouts of Thomas Henry. At last 
they gave up and decided that he had fallen 
overboard and had been drowned in the sea. 

One day as the Captain sat down to his 
breakfast, he heard a familiar meow at his side. 
He looked down, and what do you think he saw? 
Thomas Henry! But strangest of all, by her side 
were two little Thomas Henrys. You see Thomas 
Henry was not a father cat, as her name in- 
dicated. She was a mother cat and had two of the 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

tiniest little kittens. Both kittens had white 
feet just like their mother. And both had 
the same white spot, like a heart, under their 
chins. And, young as they were, they had nice 
white whiskers. How proud Thomas Henry was 
of those brand new children of hers! 

"Now, Captain," said the first mate, "you 
will have to change the name of your cat." 

"No sir," replied the skipper, "that would 
bring bad luck both to the ship and the cats. 
Her name shall still be Thomas Henry." 

After much patience, the Captain taught her 
to wag her tail at his command. 

"Thomas Henry, waggie tail for the ladies. 
Waggie tail, waggie tail." And Thomas Henry 
would wave her tail back and forth as grace- 
fully as you please. The Captain would form a 
loop of his hands, and say: "Thomas Henry, 
jump for the ladies. Up, jump!" And up would 
go Thomas Henry, with a light spring through 
the Captain's arms. 

"Ah, she's a marvelous cat is Thomas 
Henry, a marvelous cat," and the old Captain 
would give a contented smile. 

One day a stray dog came on the upper deck 
from the steerage. Thomas Henry was asleep 
on the floor. Her sixth sense seemed to feel 
trouble was near at hand. She opened one cor- 
ner of an eye and peered out. Then she sat up- 
right instantly. The hair on her back and tail 
stood straight up in anger and fear. Then she 
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made a flying leap and landed right in the middle 
of the dog's back. 

Quick as a flash, the dog turned and gave 
two leaps to the head of the stairs. The third 
leap landed him about the fourth step down, with 
Thomas Henry on his back. Both dog and cat 
tumbled the rest of the way to the bottom. Then 
the cat made her way up the stairs, as much as 
to say, "Let him come out of the steerage again 
if he dares." The dog did not show up again 
during the whole voyage. 

The kittens grew. As they grew, they also 
learned to wag their tails, and to jump through 
the Captain's arms. The first trip settled the 
matter for Thomas Henry. She liked the sea 
voyage. She also liked her new home. She also 
liked her new master and his many attentions 
to her. 

Then she took her second journey, and her 
third. And when I saw her she was taking her 
fifth round trip from Calcutta to Hongkong. 
That is a total distance traveled of 32,000 miles, 
more than entirely around the world. 

She is now called the mascot of the Kum 
Sang. She is supposed to bring good luck to the 
boat and to all who travel with her. And she 
goes about in a stately dignified way. She knows 
the responsibility resting upon her, and she is 
trying to bring up her children so that they may 
carry on her work after she passes on. 

Ah, she is a marvelous cat is Thomas Henry, 
Mascot of the Kum Sang. 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

Singapore, November 6. 
My Daughters Eight: 

The stay in Singapore has been very busy 
and interesting. I have had a fine trip around 
the island, in an automobile, driven by one 
of the natives. Not a Ford, but a Buick. It is 
perfectly surprising to see how much the British 
have done to beautify and make this island use- 
ful. There is an elegant rock and asphalt road 
clear around the island. It winds in and out 
among the rubber groves, the cocoanut groves, 
the banana groves and the pineapple groves. 
They have some trees here that they call the 
"Traveler's Palms." They are simply wonderful. 

We reached Singapore in time to get to 
church on Sunday night. There was a swarm of 
ricksha men down at the docks, also some tiny 
buggies drawn by little ponies. We hired tnese 
in groups of four, and went to church at a dog 
trot gait. The preacher had a very good sermon, 
wore a gown, and told a story about a man in 
Lexington, Kentucky. He said this man was 
131 years old, lived 91 years with his first wife, 
was the father of 29 children, and married his 
second wife at the age of 126. My little family of 
eight looks rather insignificant compared to that 
20th century patriarch. 

One morning an American boat flying the 
good old Flag pulled into the harbor, passing our 
boat by a hundred feet. Ten of us Americans 
lined up and sang the "Star Spangled Banner." 
The captain said that he thought "Yankee 

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YOKOHOMA TO CALCUTTA 



Doodle" was our National song. Later, I went 
over and called upon the crew. They said that 
song was the best music they had heard in many 
a day. It was a cargo boat. They were hungry 
for news. It gave me a feeling of home 
to see them unloading Quaker Oats and Ford 
automobiles. 

One of the very thrilling things about the 
harbor is that as boats are pulling in, the native 
boys row out in their little canoes to dive for 
coins. They will come up close, and the passen- 
gers toss a coin into the water, and down will 
go a boy after it, diving like a frog. They never 
miss. One little fellow about the size of Violet 
was in a canoe with his father, and we threw 
several coins out to see him dive. One time a 
coin fell far out from his boat, and the little fel- 
low made a jump for it, but the old man thought 
he might miss, so out he went in a deep slanting 
dive and went far down below the boy. Soon he 
came up with the coin, having intercepted it 
before it got down so deep that it would be en- 
tirely lost. 

There is one store in Singapore where ice 
cream is served, and I think that all in our crowd 
have been there two or three times. The street 
cars here are run by native men. The conduc- 
tor and the motorman both go barefoot. There 
are two seats on the front of each car, with 
brown khaki covers, that are called first class 
seats. Only Americans and Europeans ride in 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

them. Ten cents for a ride, Singapore money, 
five cents of ours. 

Well, we are ready to start. The little flat 
tug boat has just come alongside to hitch onto 
us and pull us away from the wharf. The last 
piece of red tape has been attended to by the 
police, the ship has its clearing papers, the 
whistle has; blown, the gangways have been 
raised and we are just six inches out, now a 
foot. Along the deck, are about thirty Hindus 
bidding some of their friends good-bye. Nearly 
all the men wear whiskers and dresses, their 
hair is long, done up in a knot on the back of 
their heads. They are an emotional race; they 
are weeping, some of them who are on the shore 
and others on the boat. We are now ten feet out, 
now fifteen, and the last act of the Hindus is to 
get a handful of pennies, one from each fellow on 
shore, and throw them on board to their friends 
as a farewell blessing. There was a wild scram- 
ble for the pennies. 

We are off. The last tear has been shed; we 
are through the narrows, and now, out in the 
open. The small launch has just steamed along- 
side and taken off the harbor pilot, and we are 
striking out into the big open sea, known on the 
map as the Straits of Malacca. 

Dear folks at home: 

And the evening and the morning were the 
first day. Believe me, the evening was certainly 
a pippin. About eleven o'clock, we had a thun- 
[52] 



YOKOHOMA TO CALCUTTA 



der and lightning storm; it seemed that all the 
artillery of the earth and heaven had been turned 
loose at once. The lightning came in sudden 
very bright flashes, a wide sharp streak across 
the sky. It seemed only an instant until the 
thunder clap came, but it was a different kind 
from that we have at home. It sounded like 
a great cannon going off in a loud cracking 
noise. At times, there would be two or three 
flashes of lightning at the same time, and when 
the thunder came it was like several great guns 
going off at once. One time there was a very close 
long flash passed over the ship crosswise. The 
thunder was upon us almost before the flash had 
gone out, and it actually jarred the ship from 
stem to stern. 

And the rain! Say, I never saw anything 
like it. It came not only in sheets and tubs full 
and torrents and dashes, but it seemed that the 
whole Pacific had been lifted up and was being 
poured out by the lake full upon our boat. I got 
a new idea of the majesty and glory and power of 
a thunder storm. 

This morning it is very pretty outside. 
There are a lot of feathery blue clouds, and the 
sun is obscured so that it is an invigorating day. 
Everybody is talking about the storm. Some of 
the officers say that this one was just child's 
play, and that we shall have some real ones be- 
fore we reach Calcutta. 

Land is in sight this morning, and will be 
until we reach the next stop. Great Britain 

[53] 



DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

guards the Straits so that neither Germany from 
the west nor Japan from the east could send a 
fleet of battleships through. 

Penang, November 8. 
Dear Kiddies : 

I got up early to see the ship go into the 
harbor of Penang. The run is only thirty-six 
hours, so we are here in the harbor, anchored 
out several hundred yards, and the British 
officer who examines the passports is already 
on board. He always comes aboard while the ship 
is still out in the harbor. A little launch brings 
him out and the quarter master lets down a rope 
ladder, which the officer climbs up like a monkey. 
The health officer also comes aboard out in the 
harbor, and he and the ship doctor go over the 
list of passengers, and if they are all well, and 
none have contagious diseases, then we are O. K. 
The passport man and the health officer go back 
to shore again in their little launches, the 
proper papers are filed, and the ship is then 
given official permission to enter. 

Up goes the anchor, the boys all get busy, 
the engines begin to chug, and slowly and majes- 
tically we move into the wharf, and edge up 
against the side as if we had a cargo of eggs. 
It is a very delicate task to run one of these big 
ships up against the cement docks, and do it 
carefully enough so that the boat is not jammed 
and damaged. There is an association called 
the Harbor Pilots. They always send a man out 
[54] 



YOKOHOMA TO CALCUTTA 



to run the ships in, and to steer them out into 
the open again. 

Everything is now ready, we are starting. 
I have my Corona up on a ventilator where I can 
write standing up. In this way, I can skip to 
either side of the ship and see what is going on. 
Through the rain, I can see a lot of sail boats, 
the sails all down, only the high mast poles stick- 
ing up. They look like a forest of telephone 
poles sticking up out of the sea. 

We are moving off slowly. Off to the left 
looms up an important looking yellowish brown 
building. Do I know what it is? I do. It is the 
English customs house. Wherever you go there 
is the English customs house. You have heard 
it said that the first thing the French build in a 
new colony is a railroad, and the first thing the 
British build is a customs house. 

Did I tell you that Penang is an island? 
Penang Island, and on it the city of Penang. 
Same with Singapore. Hongkong is also an is- 
land. England is an island, and she has run 
true to form and specialized on islands. There 
are all kinds of little boats rowing out to meet 
us as we pull slowly in. 

These little row boats are different from any 
we have seen before. They have slim, turned-up 
noses, artistically painted in several colors. 

Here we are, half way into the wharf, and 
the Hindus are all excited. They are getting 
their baggage tied up, their bird-cages ready and 

[55] 



DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

their mattresses rolled and tied. They are 
literally taking up their beds and walking. 

For some reason, we have stopped just half 
way in, and just to be in style, the rain has 
stopped also. The gangways have just been let 
down, and here comes a whole swarm of boats 
out to us as fast as they can row. Two Chinese 
women with babies on their backs have just gone 
down the gangway and gotten into a little 
sampan. Four other Chinese women and two 
boys are along. The man is now pushing off, 
and they will land some minutes before we 
do. One little boat pulled along the stern, and a 
big Malay, grabbed hold of one of our anchor 
ropes hanging in the water, and jumped off. He 
swam and kicked and splashed, holding the rope. 

The town clock is clanging out the hour of 
eight. So you see I have been on deck an hour, 
and a lot of things have happened and we are 
still not up to the docks; but we don't worry 
about that anymore. An hour or so — what's 
that, to people who are not in a hurry! 

One old fellow out in the sampan is wearing 
a khaki coat, evidently discarded by some 
English soldier; he has on a sari, he is barefoot, 
has a dirty red turban wound round his head 
and wears whiskers like you see in the pictures 
of Moses. He looks like a real Malay patriarch 
as he stands there, his boat going up and down 
in the small waves. 

A little steamer has just passed called The 
Puffin. * * * * The sampan men have long 
[56] 



YOKOHOMA TO CALCUTTA 



slim oars and stand up in the rear of their boats 
when they row. * * * * They are putting the 
big ropes around the crates the ponies are in. 
• • * # News. We stay where we are. We 
are anchored out in the harbor for good. * * * * 
The Puffin turned out to be a tug, and she has 
pulled two big wide-bottomed boats up against 
ours, and the cargo is to go in them and then 
they are to be drawn ashore by the tug. * * * * 
The ropes are all up, the machinery all ready, 
the sun is beginning to shine and the work will 
soon begin. It is 8: 30 and we don't have break- 
fast till nine. You see, we need tea in bed when 
we have to wait that long for breakfast. 

A money changer has come aboard. He will 
exchange local Penang money for American 
money, British money or Hongkong money. 
These money changers come aboard at every 
stop, but they do not give quite as much as the 
banks do up town, so I never trade with them. 

They have spread out great canvasses on the 
bottoms of the big boats, and are unloading 
flour made in Australia. 

My bewhiskered patriarch is sitting down in 
his sampan waiting for trade. When I get my 
breakfast, if he is still there, I am going to have 
him row me ashore. 

The Puffin has put two more big boats on the 
other side of the ship, and cargo is now going 
off in all of them. * * * * A man has just come 
on board with a box of jewelry to sell. "You 
wantee lookee? Sail velly cheap." He has 

[57] 



DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

rings, lockets, breastpins, cuff links, stones, and 
necklaces. They are all fine, but as usual, three 
prices too high. 

The first bell has rung for breakfast. Fifteen 
minutes yet. * * * * Several queer looking 
hawks are soaring over the ship. The Puffin has 
brought us two more boats, we now have six. 
* * * * Some of the folks say the first place 
they will aim for when they land is the ice cream 
stand, if there is one. * * * * Two Chinese sew- 
ing women have come aboard. "Sew? Sewee 
clothes?" They will sew on buttons or fix any- 
thing people may have need of. * * * * A na- 
tive cloth and lace man is now here. "Any nice 
lace, gentlemen? Very nice, very cheap?" He 
has all kinds of things. And now, a post card 
man has arrived, and I am sending you some of 
his nice post cards. Nearly every want is an- 
ticipated in advance by some of these enterpris- 
ing natives, and they are right here on the spot 
to supply it with prices to suit — them, not you. 

Your Dad. 

November 9. 
Dear All: 

I have discovered a peculiar thing about the 
tide. Here in the Straits, the tide flows through 
from one side to the other. At Shanghai when 
we put up at the docks it was low tide, and the 
gangway was at a very low angle as we got 
off. When I came back it was high tide, and 
the ship looked twice as high as it did before. 
[58] 



YOKOHOMA TO CALCUTTA 



The ladder was almost straight up. But here in 
the Straits, it flows through twice a day as the 
earth turns on its axis and as the moon goes 
from one side of the earth to the other. The flow 
is just like the flow of a river, and I really think 
it is as swift as the flow of the Ohio at Cincin- 
nati. When it goes in one direction, it moves 
the ship clear around as it stands at anchor. 
When the tide changes, it turns the boat around 
in the other direction. 

The sea is different every hour of the day. At 
times we can see five different colors at once. 
Each shows the different shades of light. Up close 
to the ship, there is a very deep sea blue; far out 
on the horizon, it shows a sea green; about two 
squares out, there is the shadow of the cloud on 
the water, and it shows a pale green; out be- 
yond that, the sun is striking the water and it is 
more of a pale bluish green; nearer, but be- 
yond the deep blue, is a sort of shiny blue, like 
a piece of blue silk behind a glass. 

We had a very beautiful rainbow this morn- 
ing. You may remember the old saying: "Rain- 
bow in the morning is the sailor's warning," and 
"rainbow at night is the sailor's delight." Last 
night, a small sea swallow flew on board and 
some of the men caught it. They got a small 
cage from a Chinaman and put it in, but this 
morning, the second officer let it out, for he said: 
"We will be sure. to have a storm if we keep it 
on board." 

Last night I heard a little Hindu baby cry- 

[59] 



DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

ing. It seemed to be crying in English. At least, 
it sounded very much like a baby's cry that I 
have heard before. 

November 13. 
Dearest Folks: 

I saw another shade of color on the sea 
yesterday afternoon; it was a deep purple. 

Tomorrow, we land at Calcutta. We will be 
at the mouth of the Ganges some time today. I 
have learned what I did not know about Calcutta. 
I had thought all the time that it was on the 
coast, but now I find that it is one hundred and 
twenty miles up the river. 

We are in the Bay of Bengal. I have not 
seen any Bengal tigers walking around yet. I 
have made this trip from Hongkong to Calcutta 
and have not missed a meal or been sick an 
hour of the whole trip of 3200 miles. 

You may smile at the different moods of the 
letters I have written, but I wrote each day what 
I had seen and how I felt. I can look back now 
on what I said about the food on the Monteagle. 
I know that it was not the food, but the fact that 
I was upset by the sea. 

We have had several different kinds of fruit 
lately. We have the Bombay bananas. They are 
short and fat like Uncle Bob. They are not more 
than half as long as the ordinary banana, but 
are very good. Then we have had from Pen- 
ang, the papaya melon. It is much like the canta- 
loupe but not quite so nice and sweet; the meat 

[60] 



YOKOHOMA TO CALCUTTA 



of it looks more like a pumpkin. We also had 
some mangoes, but they were not good. They 
say that a real good mango is about the best 
fruit there is. 

It has been a long trip. Entirely too long 
to suit me in point of time. The total has been 
as follows. 

Vancouver to Yokohoma .. . 4200 miles 
Yokohoma to Shanghai. . . . 1130 " 
Shanghai to Hongkong. . . . 830 " 
Hongkong to Calcutta 3200 " 



Total 9360 

Cincinnati to Vancouver. . . 3000 



Grand Total 12360 miles 
That is just about half way around the 
world. But it is not going to take me that long to 
get back. I can assure you of that in advance. 

November 14. 
On the Ganges 
My Dearest Kidlets: 

I know already that I am going to like India. 
The new pilot is on board. When we were about 
sixty miles from Calcutta we dropped anchor and 
stayed all night. The river is shifting and sandy 
and treacherous. This morning we lifted an- 
chor about five and are now steaming up the 
mighty sacred Ganges. 

What is it like? If you did not know you 

[61] 



DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

were on the Ganges you would think it was the 
Missouri. It is about as muddy, and about as wide, 
and the country around looks much like Mis- 
souri. That is why I am going to like India, it 
is so much like home. 

On the bank, to the star board we just saw 
three men herding hogs. They looked like slim 
Ozark razor backs. Then a little further we 
saw five men and a boy wading out in the muddy 
water with a seine, fishing. On the portside we 
saw the masts of a ship that had struck a sand 
bar and gone down. 

They are now getting the gangways ready 
to let down. Also getting the big crane ready to 
begin unloading the cargo as soon as we stop. 

I have had my last breakfast on the Kum 
Sang. I can go through the English bill of fare 
anywhere on earth, land or sea. I don't think 
it has changed in a hundred years. 

We must bid good bye to Thomas Henry, 
the room boys, the Captain and the crew. They 
have all been good to us on this trip. 

We are passing boats of every kind and 
description every few minutes. It seems to be a 
very busy river. 



[62] 




THREE MONTHS WITH THE 
MISSIONARIES 



THREE MONTHS WITH THE 
MISSIONARIES 



Calcutta, November 15. 
My Kiddies: 

When I got off the boat, Mr. Alexander was 
here to meet me. He had with him several letters 
from you. Star wanted to know the circumstances 
under which I read your first letters. It was in 
Calcutta, a modern city of nearly a million and a 
half, three times the size of Cincinnati. It was 
at the Lee Memorial mission, in the heart of Cal- 
cutta. It is a large four story building, used for 
a dwelling, a school, and a lodging place for 
travellers. The second story veranda is about 
twelve feet wide, and I sat out on the veranda, in 
front of my room, as I opened up the letters. 

On the right, the modern street cars were 
booming by with all their noise. On the street 
below, the two-wheeled carts, drawn by bullocks 
with humps on their shoulders. Across the way 
the big park, well kept, that the English laid 
out for Calcutta many years ago. The third 
door to my left was a school room for girls. I 
sat there and read those letters and laughed out 
loud a dozen times. And some times I cried 
silently to myself. About every half minute a 

[65] 



DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

little brown faced girl peeped out of the door to 
see what the new Sahib was doing. 

Alexander was very considerate and went 
down town and left me to read my letters with- 
out trying to visit with me. 

I got the cable about Mr. Rains' death, also 
one about the union of the societies. Mr. Rains 
has been a great old prophet of the missionary 
cause in his day. He had a multitude of friends 
at home and around the world. His good cheer 
and optimism have helped many a preacher to a 
larger life. His calls to the churches for in- 
creased giving and devotion to foreign missions 
will be felt for years to come. I am writing Mrs. 
Rains a letter. I got a letter from Mr. Rains 
here. He told about getting the picture ana of 
going over to show it to the girls. He seemed 
very proud of it. I hope I may be as true and 
steadfast to the cause as was he. 

Well, this is the afternoon of Saturday. I 
went this forenoon to the William Carey church. 
You girls know that he is called the father of 
modern missions, and that he opened up the first 
missionary work in Calcutta, over a hundred 
and ten years ago. I saw his old pulpit and stood 
in it. I saw, also, the baptistry in the church 
which he built. It is in the floor of the main 
part of the church, down in front of the pulpit 
where everybody can see when baptisms are 
performed. 

We went out into the native part of the city, 
and saw all kinds of native life. Dozens of ox- 

[66] 



THREE MONTHS WITH THE MISSIONARIES 



carts, also the sacred cows. They are sleek and 
well fed, and crowded us off the side walk into 
the mud at one place. Everybody makes way for 
the sacred cattle. 

There were all kinds of shops, and eating 
places. It is certainly a queer conglomeration 
of life. Yours actually in India. 

Daddy. 

Harda, November 20. 
Dearest Girlies: 

"Here comes the bride." If you could see 
me now I know you would start singing that 
song. I am just back for breakfast, from a town 
reception which the folks here in Harda pre- 
pared for me. It was arranged by the mission- 
aries and the high school teachers. It was held 
in the church which is near the high school. 

The chief magistrate of the village presided 
and they sang a Hindi song, prepared for the 
occasion. Then they had recitations in Hindi, 
Urdu, Persian, Sanskrit, Marathi, and English. 

After all this I spoke a few words of appre- 
ciation. They have a very fine custom in India 
of passing around garlands of flowers. I sat there 
while a teacher brought out a great big garland 
of beautiful flowers, of many colors and excep- 
tional fragrance, and hung it around my neck. 

The high school boys hung garlands on the 
missionaries, and the teachers. They passed 
smaller garlands for the high school boys and 
others in the audience until all had received one. 

[67] 



DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

They presented me with the big bouquet of roses 
on the table. 

There were Mohammedans and four or five 
different castes of Hindus present. It was very 
amusing to hear the boys recite. They had a 
sing song way of doing it that sounded very 
funny. Two fellows recited in English. One 
gave "Tell me not in mournful numbers life is 
but an empty dream." Another with a mous- 
tache recited Hamlet's soliloquy "To be or not 
to be." I wanted to embrace him. 

Only the papers up to October 2nd have 
arrived. Miss Jeter cut out all the Mutts and 
Jeffs and sewed them into a little booklet for me 
and I carry them with me. Both the Harnar's 
and Dr. Drummond were eager to see them. I 
am therefore touring India with your old friends 
Mutt and Jeff as my traveling companions. We 
are all three welcome. * * * * 

This is Thursday night, and I did not know 
anything about "here comes the bride" when I 
wrote this morning. I have been visiting schools 
today. The girls' school, had some recitations, 
some of their gymnastics, and one of the girls 
brought out another garland of flowers and 
hung around my neck. At the boys' school with 
more than two hundred boys, they had another 
program. A boy sang about Maharajah Wilson, 
which means a higher rank than Rajah in their 
estimation. They hung a great big garland of 
flowers around my neck also. 
[68] 



THREE MONTHS WITH THE MISSIONARIES 

And what do you think? The high school 
had an all day vacation in honor of my visit! 

Last night I was invited to a native home 
for dinner and sat on the floor and ate with my 
fingers in true native style. 

Good bye, 
Daddy. 

Harda, November 24. 
Dear Sisters Wilson: 

Say, sisters, I have had a great time here. 
I have visited schools, and Sunday schools, and 
homes, and the bazaar, and the shops. 

The servants around the house are very 
much excited over the new Sahib. The cook got 
up some extra dishes and the "bai" gathered 
flowers and put them in vases in a half dozen 
different places. Mrs. Harnar said that it was 
all in my honor. 

One night for dinner — they have dinner at 
seven — just as we were finishing, a sharp toy 
pistol shot rang out and down came a shower 
of flower petals all over the table. The cook 
had fastened a big bell of flower petals in the 
ceiling, and at the report of the pistol his wife 
pulled the string and down came the shower. 
We were surprised, but Mrs. Harnar said that 
they had asked her if they could do it, and had 
pledged her not to tell us. * * * * 

I have had an interruption. Miss Thompson 
came after me to go with her to see the beggar 
people at work. They are just now making 

[69] 



DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

bamboo baskets and they say they do not have 
to beg. They do not even send their children out 
to beg. Begging is a regular business here, and 
if one belongs to a beggar caste, it is considered 
honorable for him to go out and work at the job. 

Two of the children were dressed in their 
birthday clothes and nothing else. If you want 
to see how they looked, take a look at Elaine and 
Jodie when they are taking their baths. 

As we came by the municipal school a boy 
came out whose picture I had taken, after I had 
loaned him my shoes. He had told all the other 
boys about me, and about twenty-five of them 
came out on the street to shake hands with me. 
We had to stop the tonga while I was shaking 
hands. One fellow who evidently wanted to 
practice his English on me said, "I am very glad 
to see you, sir." One of these boys has invited 
me to go out in the country to see his farm. 

November 26. 
Dearest Polks: 

I went out in the country with those boys 
to see their farm. It was the most miserable old 
house you can imagine, in which the tenants 
live. 

Last night I was invited to a party in my 
honor, given by the Brahmans of the city. They 
sent around the official invitation by a runner 
and asked us to be there by five o'clock sharp. 
The missionaries were invited also. After hav- 
ing a photograph taken we went to the house, 
[70] 



THREE MONTHS WITH THE MISSIONARIES 

removing our shoes at the door. Our hosts were 
barefooted to begin with. 

They had prepared by bringing in some car- 
pets and getting ready for the affair. We had 
some high class, scientific singing. There was 
a harmonium, and two little drum-like affairs 
with the drum part only on one end. One man 
played them both, and kept time with both 
hands. The singer sat on the floor, as did all the 
rest of us. 

Then we went into another large long room 
where the meal was served. It was all on the 
floor, the plates being banana leaves. The 
food was all vegetables, as the Brahmans do not 
eat meat of any kind. There were fourteen 
different foods and they put most of it on to start 
with. A man came along and told us how to eat 
it, what to eat first, etc. They said their prayer 
of grace, and then called for quiet while I said 
the Christian grace. Then we fell to, all eating 
with our fingers, as is the habit of all India. 

The main course was rice with all kinds of 
trimmings. As we were eating, the manager of 
the affair said it was their custom to invite their 
guests to eat leisurely, to have no care, and be 
perfectly happy and composed. This is a thing 
that ought to be written in capital letters all over 
America. After we had eaten awhile, they had a 
Hindi solo, and then they asked us if we would 
give them an American song. We all sang with 
energy "America." They cheered when we 
finished. 

[71] 



DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

After we had eaten they escorted us outside 
where a man gave us water and soap to wash our 
hands. We then went back into the sitting 
room where we sat on the floor, and they asked 
me what America thought of India, as to her 
social, and political standing. We had a lengthy 
discussion about democracy, and I told them that 
democracy could not flourish anywhere on earth 
without education. They agreed to this but 
many of them desire that India shall be given 
self government in the near future. 

After this the manager of the affair made an 
address and thanked me most sincerely for com- 
ing and then they brought a very beautiful gar- 
land of flowers and put it around my neck. I 
then replied telling them of my pleasure in be- 
ing with them and of the honor they had con- 
ferred on me; that they were Brahmans and 
we were Christians, but we were all brothers, 
and that some day we would have a world 
brotherhood, and all men would work together 
for the uplift of the whole human race. It was 
a very unusual affair. Dr. Drummond says that 
he never has been to a meeting given entirely by 
the Brahmans. 

I am approaching Mahoba where we will 
have all the Cotner folks at Thanksgiving 
dinner. 

Dad. 



[72] 



THREE MONTHS WITH THE MISSIONARIES 

November 30. 
Dear Girls: 

This is early Sunday morning before tea 
and toast. I will get a letter started, but do not 
know when I will get it finished. I got the cable 
from Mr. Plopper last night that the family "is in 
excellent health." That did me a world of good. 

We had a fine Thanksgiving dinner, at the 
home of Lucy Ford. We had two fine pea fowls. 
There were five Cotner people at the dinner and 
we gave the Cotner yell. 

Last night Lucy brought up an invitation 
from the girls, teachers, and matron, of the 
school and orphanage, asking me to go down and 
eat supper with them. It was served about six 
and it was almost dark, and there were lanterns 
standing all over the big yard, or court. 

All the girls sat in a row around three sides 
of the court. The small ones like Jodie and 
Blaine were on one side, and the row gradually 
got larger up to Star's size at the other end. 
Each girl had her little brass plate and that was 
all. When they were ready to eat they all arose 
and sang a little prayer song with their eyes 
closed. Then they all sat on the ground, and ate 
their khanna (food) with their fingers. 

When I began eating with my fingers and 
hitting my mouth every time the girls seemed 
surprised. I told the matron that her khanna 
was very good, and she said she was glad, that 
the girls would all be very happy to know that I 
liked it. 

[73] 



DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

Some of the big girls asked Miss Ford to 
have me tell them about my eight daughters in 
America. The account I gave of you would bear 
repeating only to your mother. 

Well, I must tell you a little about these 
missionary families. The Thompsons keep a 
buffalo cow. One morning she came and stuck 
her face up against my screen door. I got out of 
bed and went over in my pajamas to inspect her. 
She is a big black one, with horns sticking back 
over her shoulders. She gives about seven 
quarts of milk a day. They churn every day, 
and the butter is whiter than "Churngold." 
Everybody has buffalo butter out here. The milk 
is good. 

All the floors in the bungalow are cement 
floors. The rainy season can not spoil them. 
They have rugs of various kinds on the floors. 
The walls are thick, of stone, brick and cement, 
and many of them have book shelves made in the 
cement. They never break. On each side of the 
house is a bath room. It is off from the bed- 
room. In one end of the bath room is a ward- 
robe room where there are a lot of hooks, and 
where I hang all my clothes. In the bath room 
is a large stone water jug. The water carrier 
fills this up every morning. There is a cement 
stand for the wash pan, soap box, etc., and a 
string goes across the room where I hang my 
towels. I use my own Ivory soap. It floats. In 
the corner of the bath is a hole for a drain, and 
when I wash my face I simply dump the water 
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THREE MONTHS WITH THE MISSIONARIES 

out on the cement floor, and the powers of nature 
do the rest. Water never runs up hill, and again, 
water seeks its own level. 

I have had tea and toast, been down to take 
a picture of Miss Ford's girls walking to Sunday- 
school two by two; have been to the open- 
ing exercise of the Sunday school; and now 
they are studying the lesson, and I stole off to 
write this letter to you. You see how I must 
chink in the time or you would never get a 
letter. 

To continue about the house. There is a 
cook, a bearer (waiter,) a syce (horseman) a 
sweeper, a refuse man (garbage man), a bai 
(woman to look after the children). Each one 
does his own work only. The bai will not do 
the sweeping, and the horseman will not do the 
garbage man's nor the sweeper's work. Bertha 
looks after the hospital and dispensary, — yester- 
day she had about fifty patients, — so she has not 
much time to look after the house and the 
children. 

Mahoba is the place where Adelaide Gail 
Frost wrote that famous song "India, Sad India." 
Get it out and sing it some Sunday afternoon. 
She wrote it up in a Rajah's old summer house 
overlooking the lake in front of the mission 
property here. From where she wrote that song 
I counted six suttee pyres where they used to 
burn widows at the death of their husbands, 
counted also about twenty temples and shrines. 
You never saw such a place for temples ana 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

shrines. There are three or four on the church 
grounds. 

I gave Lucy Ford a rupee last night, and the 
girls will buy a lot of Indian beads and fix up 
some fancy necklaces. She said the girls would 
be very happy to do it, for the daughters of the 
big Sahib. 

I walked out among the rocky hills and 
valleys the other day. It was a very beautiful 
place and resembled the Garden of the Gods at 
Colorado Springs more than any place I have 
seen. It is a real Garden of the Gods. Big and 
small, broken and unbroken, hideous and a few 
otherwise, some stone and some mud, and some 
of cheap sandy stone. 

I have already seen a lot of monkeys here. 
They are great big fellows, as large as the largest 
ones at the Zoo. I saw one little baby monkey 
half way up a tree and it gave out a yell. Its 
mamma came out of another yard, and she 
jumped up into the tree in a hurry. When we 
walked up among the hills and rocks I saw about 
a dozen, and tried to get close enough to get a 
good picture, but they kept moving on so far 
ahead that I couldn't get it. 

I have seen some wild deer, also a jackal, 
very much like a Nebraska coyote. Also some 
fine pea fowl, with their big wide pretty tails. 
They are very shy if they think a man has a gun. 



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THREE MONTHS WITH THE MISSIONARIES 

December 1. 

This is Monday morning and where do you 
suppose I am? I am about fourteen miles from 
Mahoba, sitting in the small side car of Rother- 
mel's motorcycle. I am in the middle of the 
road writing this letter, while he is off a half 
mile to the right, trying to shoot some deer. 

I got up at three thirty this morning, and 
Clint Thompson and I started at four, with his 
little pony and two wheeled cart. He brought 
me out to the outstation where we called on the 
native pastor before seven, and then ate our 
breakfast or rather chota hazri. 

Rothermel came out from Maudha to meet 
us, and he is taking me back with him. We 
are trying to get some deer so I can take some 
hides home with me. He thought that if I 
was not used to shooting deer they would get 
away from me, so I was willing for him to do 
the job. There are about a dozen of them, and I 
can see them plainly, but they are moving 
around, so he may not get close enough to get 
a shot. 

Two boys driving the cows out for the day 
are now by my side, and they are very much in- 
terested in the big Sahib in the car. Bang — 
bang — he has just fired two shots, and I see the 
deer running away, so I think he has missed. If 
he has, I will tell him he had better let a green 
horn try it next time. 

It was a wonderful trip this morning, the 
stars shine more brilliantly out here than at 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

home. The star in the east, I think it is Venus, is 
very, very large and brilliant here. 

Rothermel is now coming back and he has 
no deer. 

December 5. 
Eight Wilson Girls: 

At Maudha I went out one evening with Mr. 
Rothermel and got two shots at pea fowl and got 
them both. We gave one to the native mayor of 
the town which greatly pleased him, so that he 
came to the C. E. social that night. The cook 
roasted the other in fine style, and served him for 
the eleven o'clock breakfast. 

He was almost as big as a turkey, as he lay 
there with his fowlish bosom exposed, the 
supreme sacrifice that a pea fowl can make. I 
shot them near a small village about two miles 
away. It is ruled over by a Mohammedan, or a 
Mussulman, as they are called here. He had a 
man carry the fowls out to our tonga, and when 
we started home he thanked me for honoring 
him and his village by coming out here to shoot. 
He asked us to come again. 

There was a baptism service at a nearby 
lake the last day I was there, and I got a good 
picture of it. We had to wind in and out a nar- 
row path through some kaffir corn on our way. 
There were several women at work in the field. 
They cut the corn, and carry it in great bunches 
on their heads to the threshing floor. I saw 
one man threshing it, and he was driving his 

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THREE MONTHS WITH THE MISSIONARIES 

oxen round and round upon it. He said it would 
take a week to do the job, and when it was done 
he would have about ten bushels of grain. 

Mr. Rothermel took me to Rath in his side 
car. We had a fine journey, and when half way 
out Mr. Bierma met us at a village. He had sent 
his tonga out to get my luggage. I could not get 
it all in the side car so one tonga took it half 
way, and the other fellow met him to bring it in. 
The same thing was done from Rath to 
Kulpahar. 

At Rath I had a fine time with Mr. and Mrs. 
Bierma. They have two fine babies like Jodie 
and Eunice. It seems very strange to hear them 
talking Hindi. They can talk Hindi almost as 
well as English. They rarely ever ask for water, 
they ask for pani. 

Now I am at Kulpahar. Rothermel brought 
me over on his motor. Bierma came out part 
way on his bicycle. 

Here at Kulpahar are four single ladies. 
Misses Thorp, Burgess, Clark and Vance. They 
took me at sundown to see the spare bed room 
where I am to sleep. Where do you suppose 
it is? It is the spare bungalow a quarter of a 
mile away. It is Davis' home, and they are 
in America now. It is a large bungalow and I 
am the sole occupant. An old man, the care- 
taker around here, slept on the porch all night 
as watchman. Just why is not yet clear to me. 

I came down to retire about nine o'clock, 
and a jackal ran slowly across the yard. My lug- 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

gage had just arrived a few minutes before, and 
the old man carried it in for me. Soon after I 
retired, my friend Jack decided that company- 
should have a soothing melody to go to sleep on, 
so he called for his tenors and his basses, his 
altos and his sopranos and started up his jackal- 
ish chorus of the night. It sounded as if there 
were a hundred of them, but the tenors predom- 
inated. Such wild weird voices of the night, I 
never heard before. 

Star wanted to know what to write about 
for school. Write about the tiger I did not get, 
and the deer I did not shoot, and how it feels to 
be an orphan with Daddy ten thousand miles 
away. And an imaginary story as to what I am 
doing as you write, and how the jackals got up 
their chorus to serenade the new Sahib, etc. 

This is Monday night, 9: 30 o'clock, and I am 
again down at the bungalow alone. It has been 
a busy day. A woman came in five miles today 
with her fifteen months' old baby on her hip and 
gave it away to the home here. She said her 
husband was dead, the baby was nearly starved 
and she could not feed and care for it any longer. 
I asked her if she would be sorry to leave it, and 
she said "yes," but it would have a good home 
now and she would leave it. She did not kiss it 
good bye, did not weep when she left it, but 
went off down the road, and the missionaries 
said she would perhaps never come back to in- 
quire about it. Later a little girl about ten, 
ragged and dirty came up, an old lady from her * 
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THREE MONTHS WITH THE MISSIONARIES 

town escorting her to show her the way. She 
had walked twelve miles. Her parents both be- 
ing dead, she had heard of this home and wanted 
to be taken in, and they took her. 

Jubbulpore, December 14. 
Dearest Girls: 

Now girls, for a real surprise! Listen while 
I get it off my chest! You know I have always 
been a little cranky about you youngsters want- 
ing to wear too many beads and things like that. 
Well, I am changing my mind, for I have already 
got some beads for you, and Lucy Ford and her 
Mahoba girls are fixing up some others. What's 
more! when I get home I am going to let you 
wear them, and I am going to bring a string for 
mamma, and am going to think they are real 
pretty. Now you see this trip is having its effect 
on me. Of course I will not expect any of you to 
get giddy or vain, or too foolish about them, 
but then you are not that kind of girls. 

Hatta, December 19. 
My Girlies: 

Here I am in Hatta with David Rioch. 

I was to arrive in time for breakfast about 
eleven. When I was about two miles out, David 
came on his bicycle to meet me. You never saw 
a man as pleased as he was. He shook hands with 
me three times, and looked at me as if I were his 
own son. He rode close up to the tonga so he 
could talk all the way. When we got to his 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

bungalow, he shook hands with me again, and 
when we got in the house he hugged me. He 
was still excited when we went to the table. And 
I was just as glad to see him. 

He had killed a deer the day before, and had 
a nice big roast for breakfast. He had the cook 
bring him the long round sharpener for his carv- 
ing knife, and after he had sharpened it, he used 
the sharpener for a fork. Stuck it in deep, and 
cut two slices off before he discovered what he 
was doing. Then we had a good laugh. He said 
he could hardly believe that I am here. You see, 
he lives away out here all alone, and Mrs. Rioch 
and Janet have not yet arrived. 

He often goes for weeks without seeing a 
white person. So you can realize what my com- 
ing meant to him. We have had a glorious time. 
We got up real early this morning, had tea, and 
started out on an evangelistic tour to some vil- 
lages. The four evangelists were to come later 
with the oxen, and the two wheeled cart. We 
went ahead, walking, with the guns, for David 
said we would get a deer before the time for 
meeting. 

It was still dark when we started, but soon 
dawn came and then sunrise. Soon after sunrise 
we sighted a herd of deer and we stalked them 
for several hundred rods but could not get close 
enough for a shot. Then we saw another bunch 
of about twenty. David sent me ahead, and he 
circled around. Finally I got close enough for a 
shot. I let one big fellow have it. Bing! Down 
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THREE MONTHS WITH THE MISSIONARIES 

he came! My first! Later on we saw two, graz- 
ing. The ox cart had arrived by that time and I 
got in and the driver circled around them and 
David went straight down the road to get them if 
they came across. Soon we were close enough 
for another shot, and I said "bus" to the driver. 
That means "enough," "stop." I sat in my seat, 
took good aim at the biggest one, and down he 
came. He had no sooner fallen, than out leaped 
the driver — gari wallah, and ran as fast as he 
could go, picked up the deer and carried it back to 
the gari. Two shots, two deer, 1000 per cent. How 
is that for the old man who missed four times 
yesterday? The evangelists and all the natives 
around will have deer meat. They are happy. 

When we arrived at the village, the evan- 
gelists got out their violin, and song books and 
began singing. Soon we had a good crowd, and 
two of the men preached. About the middle of 
the service an old woman came by, driving her 
goats to the pasture. There were about twenty 
of them and she could not go around, so they 
crowded through a space about three feet wide 
and broke up the meeting for a few minutes. 

Soon a little black baby goat came bleating 
down the narrow street, trying to follow its 
mother. An old woman grabbed it, took it in her 
arms and lap, and sat there listening to the 
evangelist preach. The goat seemed perfectly 
contented, and so did she. Later as we went out, 
the man was milking the goats in a big brass 

[83] 



DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

bowl. One fellow holds the goat by the front 
legs while the other does the milking. 

We went to the next village and had another 
service. As the meeting was going on, the 
women who carry "buffalo chips" went out and 
in between the evangelists and the audience 
several times, with great baskets on their heads. 
They make these into big cakes about the size 
of a wash pan, let them dry in the sun, then they 
are used for fuel. Thousands of people have no 
fuel to cook with, but these. There are places in 
each village where they have big stacks of them 
for sale. There is no coal at all in any of these 
villages, so the only thing they can buy for fuel 
is these chips. 

December 20. 
Dearest Folks: 

We are up early again. We have already 
had chota hazri, and it's only seven. We got into 
Damoh this morning. We have to send our bed- 
ding on ahead in the ox cart. It takes them ten 
or eleven hours to make the trip, and if we did 
not start them early, they would not arrive in 
time for us to use our bedding to-night. 

All the folks around here got some of the 
deer meat and they are all happy. It was my 
Christmas present to them. I am going to get the 
hides tanned and bring them home for rugs. I 
hope to get some more in camp. We had a great 
visit last night. We sat up and talked around the 
fireplace with a couple of nice logs in it. 

[84] 



THREE MONTHS WITH THE MISSIONARIES 

I must tell you how David lives. He lias 
his cook — khansama — who also acts as waiter. 
David is very careful that the food is cooked well 
and served well. His garden is fine. It is near 
the well, and his mali (gardener) takes good care 
of it, under David's supervision. Yesterday, out of 
the garden we had ripe tomatoes, beans — mark 
it, girls — beans, red crisp radishes, and very ten- 
der lettuce. He has pots turned over the lettuce 
to keep it crisp. He has potatoes ready to dig in 
about three or four weeks, cabbage, cauliflower, 
and other vegetables. 

The bungalow is very nice, mud walls 
plastered outside and in with cement and then 
white washed, so that it is as nice as a cement 
house at home. The yard is well kept, rose 
bushes and many other flowers in the yard, a 
hedge well trimmed, and the nicest big trees, 
more of them and nicer than the ones in our own 
Norwood yard, and the yard is much larger. In 
fact, there are three or four acres in it. One 
banyan tree is a wonder. These trees grow very 
wide long branches. They don't grow high, but 
the limbs go out so that they cover much ground. 
David and I stepped this off at the farthest points 
in two directions. One way it was 114 feet and 
the other way it was 145 feet. 

I am just reminded of several messages that 
have been sent to you. At Rath the syce who 
drove Mr. Bierma and me out to some villages 
was asking about our girls and family. I told 
him how we all work and you girls help. He 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

thought a while, and said "Just think, if you had 
no girls, the poor Mem Sahib would have to do 
all that work herself." 

A little old lady at Kulpahar after my talk, 
and a visit among the homes, came up to me and 
said in broken English, "Tell your Mem Sahib 
our best salaams." The woman who is the ma- 
tron of the women's and girls' homes, said after 
she saw your pictures "Sahib, I think you have a 
very beautiful family. You must give them my 
salaams." So you see the folks out here know 
who you are and are thinking about you. 

I wonder if I have told you how these people 
do with their cooks and waiters when they visit 
one another. When Mr. Grainger's or Mr. Mc- 
Dougall's family visits Alexander's for a meal, 
they take their cook and waiter along. They all 
help in the service. That's true of government 
officials also. Very handy. Bus. We are off. 

Dad. 

Damoh, December 22. 
Dearest Everybody: 

Half way in to Damoh is a Dak Bungalow. 
David sent word ahead for the khansama to have 
breakfast ready at eleven. When we arrived, the 
old fellow came out, salaamed, and gave us a 
room where we shaved and got ready to eat. He 
had rice and curry and other good things. 
While we were eating, he came round and put a 
garland of flowers around our necks. We gave 
him an extra anna for a tip. 
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THREE MONTHS WITH THE MISSIONARIES 

Mrs. Rice ordered us to furnish the turkey 
for Christmas dinner, so this evening at four 
David and I took our shot guns and got on 
bicycles and rode out to a small river eight miles 
away where there are pea fowl. I saw a large 
cock with his long tail feathers fly across the 
river. 

As I was stealing along, a big fat hen flew up 
in a tree to the side, and a big cock flew in 
another. I could see the hen well, and I thought 
that a hen in the hand was worth two roosters in 
the tree tops, so I let drive, and down came old 
lady hen. She is a great big fat one, as large as 
a turkey, and much better to eat than the rooster. 

We had a great time here yesterday, Sunday. 
I went with Mrs. Rice to a village two miles 
away, where she conducts a Sunday school. We 
walked, arriving a little after seven thirty. 
School was held under a tree in front of a little 
mud house. As we started off through the vil- 
lage, the whole crowd went along, and one little 
girl about the size of Violet was not dressed, 
except for her necklace, and bracelets. She 
carried her shirt and sari in her hand and 
dressed as she went. No one paid any attention 
to her. 

Eight of the Sunday schools in and around 
Damoh, came in to the central school at the 
church. There were 641 present. They had a 
good program, the different schools each giving 
one number. One bunch recited scripture verses; 
one big boy recited that verse in the story of the 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

birth of Christ where it says of the shepherds 
"the glory of the Lord shone round about them 
and they were sore afraid," and he ended up by 
saying "God Save the King." On many occasions 
out here they use that expression, and this chap 
thought it would be appropriate here. It surely 
was laughable. 

I was over at Dr. McGavran's hospital at 
seven thirty. Big crowd, fifty-six up to eleven 
o'clock, all kinds of people, and all kinds of 
diseases. One woman came fifteen miles and her 
son and three other men came along, relatives 
perhaps. Doctor told her nothing would cure 
her but an operation. The men did not want an 
operation so the whole crowd pulled out. Another 
woman came, bare foot, who had been in the 
hospital two years. She was almost dead, but 
they pulled her through, and she was just finish- 
ing her treatments. When the Doctor told me 
about her and told her that I was a Secretary 
Sahib from America, she came up and showed me 
her feet and ankles that had been cured, then she 
pulled her sari up over her bare knees and 
showed me where her knees had been cured. She 
almost worships Doctor McGavran. I can't tell 
you of all the cases, but nearly every one has a 
history. 

In the afternoon at two, I went with Miss 
Franklin to the girls' school. She has sixty high 
caste girls. There are five grades up to govern- 
ment requirements. They gave a good Christ- 
mas program, and they were all dressed up in 

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THREE MONTHS WITH THE MISSIONARIES 

their best jewelry, which is going some out here. 
I called four of them out and took their pictures ; 
also took an inventory of their jewelry, with the 
aid of Miss Franklin, and the old lady who is 
their servant, who comes to school with them, 
and returns with them. 

Here are some items about one girl: 

Her name is Sunder. 

Age 12 years. 

Engaged, and to be married soon. 

Father a big merchant. 

Right arm five bracelets. 

Left arm three. 

Two anklets, large, silver. 

One gold nose ring. 

One gold finger ring. 

Three neck rings and bracelets, one 

of them gold. 
Three head bands, beads of gold 

over head. 
Three head ornaments, pearl, in 

front and on top. 
Four ear rings, right ear. 
Six ear rings, left ear. 
Total : thirty-one pieces of jewelry. 
Value about 700 rupees. About 

$325.00. 

How is that for a girl the age of Lenore? 
The others were just as bad. One had on four- 
teen bracelets, some of them solid silver. 



[89] 



DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

December 26. 
Dearest Girls: 

We are about ready to start for camp and I 
must tell you about yesterday, Christmas. We 
had hung up our stockings and when we opened 
them there were lots of funny things in them. 
A pair of Ray's old gloves in mine, and his 
whistle, and some of my film rolls. Also the en- 
closed letter and handkerchief holder from Miss 
Franklin, also the little thing from Florence 
Alexander, and a set of beads from Dr. McGarvan 
which have a history and which I'll bring with 
me'. 

At two o'clock in the morning about twenty 
of the Damoh boys started out over town singing 
Christmas songs. They got to my room about 
five and their songs surely were fine. 

At night we had our big dinner and the pea 
fowl was the center of attraction. 

In the afternoon, an old snake charmer came 
round with a big cobra about five and a half feet 
long. He blew an old bamboo horn. He took 
the snake out and it crawled all over the place. 

On Tuesday night, the boys had their Christ- 
mas tree and program. They acted out the Bible 
story of the shepherds at the manger. 

When the star appeared a boy on the out- 
side stuck a beautiful fireworks star in the win- 
dow, and it dazzled up brilliantly for about a 
minute. 

Each boy got a little round black topi with a 
knife tied in it. Yesterday one boy was wearing 

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THREE MONTHS WITH THE MISSIONARIES 

his topi around, still tied up in the paper so he 
wouldn't get it dirty. 

We had ripe tomatoes for supper last night 
from the Damoh farm. Also nice big oranges. 

December 28. 
In camp 25 miles from Damoh. 
My Dearest Girls: 

I have wished fifty times today that you 
were here with me. Fay Livengood and his 
wife, Ray and Merle Rice and I are the 
only white people here. We are camping near 
a nice river with sandy banks and clear water. 
Just back of my tent is a great hill, about four 
hundred feet high. My tent is under a banyan 
tree, as is also that of Ray's. Down at the right 
of our tents are the tents of the helpers; they 
also are under a big, beautiful banyan tree. 

We arrived here yesterday about three, and 
the boys at once began making their little huts. 
They gathered the branches, the green leaves 
and the grass. By night, every one of them had 
a neat little hut, that he had made with his own 
hands and that he would sooner sleep in than a 
tent. I went on a tour last night to see them. 
They were all pleased to see the Secretary Sahib 
take an interest in their houses. Each boy has a 
rug and two blankets. He also has his own 
plate, eats with his fingers, washes his own 
plate, so you see the bother of a camp for these 
fellows is small. 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

Across from our camping place is a range of 
large hills, and on top of them are a great many 
temples. Fay and I climbed up there yesterday. 
This noon we climbed to the top of the big hill, 
back of our camp. It is steep and very rocky, but 
I had a staff, and after awhile we reached the 
top. There were the ruins of an old temple, and 
an old suttee pyre. Down in an old basement of 
ruins, we saw a big rabbit under some grass. 
Prom the top of the hill we can see for at least 
twenty-five miles in every direction. The river 
winds in and out among the green wheat fields 
like a ribbon of blue. 

Great stretches of trees and jungle can be 
seen to the rear of our camp. It is there we are 
going tomorrow morning to get some game, or at 
least try. We have permission from the govern- 
ment to shoot three sambar. We will start at 
the break of day. 

Now to go back in the story a little. We 
started Friday. There were fourteen ox carts 
which brought our stuff out. Tents, rolls of 
blankets, bedding, grain for the boys, chiefly 
rice and wheat. We have about a half ton 
of rice for the boys. The boys walked. If 
any of them got too tired, they rode on the carts. 
We went fifteen miles the first day, and pitched 
camp in a grove of big trees. Ray had sent a 
man ahead to secure milk, wood and hay, and 
some extra big logs for a bonfire. 

I got two deer the first day and Fay got a 
wild cat. We sent one of the deer back to the 
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THREE MONTHS WITH THE MISSIONARIES 

sixty little boys in the orphanage who could not 
come. It will make them two good meals. The 
second day I got a third deer. I shot it at a long 
distance and broke its hind leg. Fay and the 
boys saw it limp and chased after it. It was a 
sight to behold those boys, about fifteen of them, 
and Fay chasing that deer. The boys simply 
yelled, for they knew with two deer we would 
have enough for the whole camp. When they 
caught up with it, it dodged back and forth and 
finally Fay jumped on its back. When we got 
it killed and strung up on a pole, eight or ten 
of the boys carried it to the road and put it in 
an oxcart. 

When we got into camp, and all the boys 
heard that another deer had been shot, you should 
have heard the yell they sent up. They skinned 
them, cut them up into small pieces and cooked 
them in the big brass cooking kettles, with the 
rice. It made a rice-deer curry. We took our 
plates and sat on the ground with them, and ate 
out of the same big kettle. It was really good 
food, and I enjoyed every bite of it. 

We had church service this morning. Fay 
preached, then we had communion. The boys 
all sat on the ground through the entire service. 
They were very respectful and attentive. 

Jhansi, January 7. 
Dearest Girls: 

I am out of the jungle again, and at my regu- 
lar work. On the last day a rich man sent his 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

elephant over, and we went out hunting on the 
elephant. Four of us rode on him, and we had a 
great time. 

When he came in to camp, the driver who 
sat upon his neck, had him get down on his 
knees. When we all got on, he slowly and care- 
fully got up. When we came to a bad place in 
the road, we thought he would surely tip over 
but he went across as smoothly as if he were 
flying. 

Well, we got up on top of the hill again, and 
the men down in the valley honked the jungle for 
us. Soon we heard some noise in the bushes and 
a mother sambar and her baby came out within 
twenty-five or thirty feet of me. She stopped for 
a half minute and looked around. I could have 
easily taken her picture, if I had had my camera, 
but the boy who was carrying it for me was ten 
feet away, and if he had moved, she would have 
run away. Soon two mongooses ran out, and a 
little later two big pea cocks, one right close to 
me, but I did not shoot as I was hoping for a 
male sambar, but none came. 

As we went down the hill, a great big fellow 
jumped up and stood for a moment behind some 
bushes. Ray got a fine shot at him and down he 
came on the first shot. He was a monster big 
fellow, with horns at least three feet long. The 
shout that went up in the jungle could have been 
heard for miles. Ray skinned him, and cut 
him up, and it took sixteen boys to carry the 
meat into camp, about four miles away. The 

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THREE MONTHS WITH THE MISSIONARIES 

boys will have meat for several days and they 
are very happy. 

We had a great camp fire that night. Told 
stories and had a program. It was announced 
that Mrs. Bert Wilson and family had arrived in 
camp while we were in the jungle, and they 
would be introduced. Soon in came a tall boy, 
dressed up in Livengood's suit, and another boy 
whom Alice and Merle had dressed up in their 
clothes to represent Mamma. Other boys of 
various ages had middies, and dresses on, and the 
one representing Eunice, the "father" carried in 
his arms. It was killing to see those brown faced 
boys act like you girls were supposed to act. 

Then they had two boys make a speech, one 
in English and the other interpreted it in Hindi. 
It was great to see them go at it. They called on 
me to make a speech in Hindi. Will you believe 
it, if I tell you that I did? I can't explain what I 
said here, but by using some words that I knew 
and making signs, I told them of our hunt; that 
away up in the hills at three o'clock when we had 
no water and food in our stomachs I was very 
hungry. 

Then Ray called upon an old hunter-guide of 
the village, who had come up to sit by the fire, to 
make a speech to the boys. He said he could 
not express himself. But Ray told him to stroke 
his whiskers and scratch his head, and get up 
and tell them about that big hill back of the 
camp. The old man got up. He said that once 
there were two Rajahs who got into a big war 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

over who should have control of the hill, and 
several men were killed. As he was about to go 
on, Ray stopped him and told him to wait until 
he interpreted that. 

He started out by saying that the "buri 
Sahib," which was a term of very great honor 
for the old hunter, had said that once two tur- 
keys got into a great fight, and all the men in the 
neighborhood stood around and watched the 
fight. Finally he said one turkey kicked the 
other in the eye, and "busted it all to pieces," and 
the men picked up the pieces and made this great 
hill. 

Those hundred and fifty boys fairly split 
their sides laughing at that interpretation, and 
so did I. It was a great night. When I bade them 
good night, they gave three times three cheers 
for me. We left early the next morning, to look 
at the great group of temples on those hills, and 
then to eat New Year's dinner at the native 
police commissioner's house in the village three 
miles away. Pay and I went down to the river, 
took off our shoes and walked across, and later 
Merle, Ray, and Alice came over on the elephant. 

We had a regular Indian dinner, curry and 
rice, and we ate with our fingers. Then Fay and 
I rode in the twenty-five miles on the bicycles, 
and as you can imagine, I was ready for supper 
when we got into Mr. Benlehr's. But Mrs. Ben- 
lehr has good sense, for she had a big kettle of 
hot water ready, and I dumped it into the big 
bath tub, and had a glorious swim. 
[96] 




T3 

C 

'u 

to 



OS 



C 
CO 



THREE MONTHS WITH THE MISSIONARIES 

Robert Benlehr had just come down from 
the hills from school, the same place where Janet 
Rioch will go. He told about killing a big bear 
*up there. He can tan hides. He has just shot a 
big gray monkey, and said he would finish its 
hide and let me take it home with me. I would 
not have the heart to kill one myself. 

I next went to Bina, where Tom Hill and 
wife, of the College of Missions, are located. Tom 
is the fellow who courted his wife through the 
key hole at the C. of M. when she had the German 
measels. I had a fine time there, and visited 
some of the homes with Misses Russell and Gar- 
ton. One old woman took a shine to me because 
I counted her bracelets, and brought out a lot 
more of her jewelry for me to see. She actually 
had a gold nose ring as large around as the 
bottom of a saucer. I got her to put it on, and I 
took her photo. 

So that's the end of my doings up to Jhansi, 
where Ernest Gordon, and wife, Ada McNeill 
Gordon, are at work. He has a school of 
240 boys, and I was there all forenoon today. I 
visited all the classes, heard them in their Eng- 
lish, their geometry, their geography, etc. The 
class in physiology was trying to recite in 
English, and they had to use very simple 
sentences to express themselves. 

The teacher would say "where is your 
heart?" and the boy would reply "here is my 
heart" pointing to it. I asked permission to ask 
questions, and after several I asked one chap, 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

pointing to my nose "what is this?" He said 
"that is your nose." I said "is it a long nose or 
a short nose?" He replied without a moment's 
hesitation "It is a very long nose, sir." 

Gordon and I played tennis tonight. He 
says that he had not intended to tell me he 
played tennis, as he supposed that a Secretary 
was too dignified to play games. When he took 
me to the native preacher's home this forenoon, 
I saw a checker board on the table, and told the 
preacher to get out his checkers, and we had a 
game then and there. His wife came in and 
looked on, and a door full of curious people 
peered in to see what the American Sahib was 
doing. I beat the preacher, so he has full respect 
for my position as Secretary. 

When you get this it will be the middle of 
February, and that will be only two months 
until I will be starting home. I am going to 
try and come home by way of the Red Sea and the 
Mediterranean, and stop off for a week and run 
over to Jerusalem and Bethlehem, and if possi- 
ble, up to the Sea of Galilee. There is a railroad 
now that goes from Port Said on the Suez Canal 
to Jerusalem in one night. 

Pendra Road, January 13. 
My Dearest Miss Sahibs: 

Now that you have made your appearance at 
the Damoh camp, I can give you the Indian des- 
ignation. On my way down here I had to stop at 
Katni, the junction point, from about five 
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THREE MONTHS WITH THE MISSIONARIES 

in the morning, till four in the afternoon. I went 
up to the Dak Bungalow. When I routed out the 
old long whiskered khansamma, he began to say 
that the place was full. But I told him I was 
the same Secretary Sahib from America that 
stayed with him before. He peered at me through 
the darkness, told the coolies it was Secretary 
Sahib, and to bring my stuff right into the din- 
ing room. 

He fixed up a bed for me, I unrolled my hold- 
all, and was soon "in the hay" "sawing wood." 
I had had to change trains at midnight, so you 
can guess I was sleepy. He closed the doors, and 
when I dozed off it was beginning to get light. 
When I awoke and looked at my watch it was 
ten thirty. He got breakfast for me, and I got 
out my typewriter, established my office and went 
to work. 

I reached Pendra Road about eleven at 
night. Mr. Madsen and three of the evangelists 
met me at the depot in their oxcart. Madsen's 
twelve year old daughter was along. Her name 
is Neilsine, she is red headed, about the size of 
Lenore, and just as wide awake. The evangelists 
lighted Japanese lanterns, one went ahead of the 
oxen, and two followed behind the cart. It was 
quite a procession in the dark. When we got up 
to the mission bungalow, we found Mrs. Bessie 
Farrar Madsen still up, a fire in the fire place, 
with some steaming hot cocoa already made, and 
some good bread and butter. 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

When I had finished my cocoa, Mrs. Madsen 
said there was mail for me. It was your letters 
of November 23. I read all of your letters near 
midnight. 

Roma, the reason you got a U. S. stamp on 
that letter, is that it was mailed in Shanghai. 
Shanghai has been internationalized ; that is, the 
port part of it has, and there is an English post 
office, where English mail is sent with their own 
stamps, and an Uncle Sam post office where our 
stamps can be bought and letters mailed, and 
also a Chinese office. I am not sure if there are 
others. 

You asked about sea gulls. Some sea gulls 
are white and some brown. Sea gulls are like 
people, they vary in colors, I suppose to add var- 
iety to the color scheme. 

Madsens have three daughters. The oldest 
was eighteen yesterday. They put a wreath of 
rose petals around her plate, and gave her 
several presents. She is red headed also. The 
other is fifteen. I played three games of chess 
with her last night. She won two of them. 
They are a fine bunch of girls, and are the 
only white children here. The next nearest 
white children are at Bilaspur, 64 miles away. 

So you see that Pendra Road is a real jungly 
place. It is real jungle in every sense of the 
word. For it was two miles from here where Mr. 
Cunningham shot his big tiger. There are pan- 
thers or leopards all around here. Only today, 
up at Dr. Mary Longdon's tuberculosis sanitar- 

[100] 



THREE MONTHS WITH THE MISSIONARIES' 

ium, where I am sitting out on the porch while I 
write this letter, I saw two big jackals trot across 
the front yard. They were not more than a half 
block away. 

Dr. Longdon was severely bitten by a pan- 
ther in October. She heard a noise in her chicken 
coop just in the rear of her bungalow. She 
went out about four in the morning to see what 
the trouble was, and the panther attacked her, 
threw her on the ground, bit her arm at the 
elbow, scratched her chest and back with its 
great claws, and stood over her with its paw on 
her back for a half minute or more, while she 
screamed for help. She was all alone, but when 
the servants came he ran away. 

She was very ill, and had to go to the Damoh 
hospital for Dr. McGavran's treatment. She can 
only use her left arm and hand a very little. Well, 
two weeks ago the same old leopard, evidently, 
killed a small buffalo. The District Commissioner 
sat up over the kill for two nights, but the pan- 
ther did not return to finish his feast. The night 
I arrived they told me that they had heard him 
again before they started to the train. He has a 
sort of "woof" call that the natives all recognize. 

What was our surprise the next morning to 
hear that in a small village of only a few houses 
near Madsens' bungalow he had killed a bul- 
lock. It was not more than fifty feet from 
the little native house where the owner of 
the bullock lived. There was a big tree near 
by and I wanted to sit up that night to get a shot 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

at him, but there was no moon. They said if we 
tied a lantern so it would shine on the bullock, 
the panther would not come. But it does seem 
a shame to have to go away tonight, without 
getting a shot at the impudent robber. 

Last night at Madsens we had a guest for 
dinner. He was a real English lord. A titled 
lord, alive, sitting right across the table from 
me, laughing and joking, and conversing like the 
rest of us ordinary mortals. And just think, his 
table manners were no better than mine! He is 
out here in the government forest service, finding 
out which trees in the government forests have 
qualities for varnish and shellac. He has killed 
several tigers and panthers in his journeys, 
and had some very interesting stories to tell. 
He did not suggest that he might have King 
George make me a lord or a duke so I may have 
to come home just a private citizen after all. 
He was a comparatively young man, spent the 
years of the war in the service in Mesopotamia, 
and told us many things of interest about the 
Euphrates and Tigris rivers, and the ruins of 
ancient Babylon. 

There is a very interesting thing here at 
Pendra Road. Madsens have developed a real 
Christian village. That is a rare thing in India. 
There is so much paganism in all these villages 
that it was surely refreshing to see one where no 
one is allowed to build a house who is not a 
Christian. They took me around the village. I 
went into the houses, and saw their little stoves 
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THREE MONTHS WITH THE MISSIONARIES 

on the floor, their cooking pots, their grain 
grinders, two big stones you will remember, and 
the women showed me their babies. I held two 
or three of them in my arms, and withal I had a 
big time. They have a "palaver" house, or what 
they call here a "panchaiat" house. It is a 
place where the men of the village meet to decide 
on any and all questions. Last night they had 
such a meeting, and I was invited. They had 
some music, two instruments that correspond to 
a violin, and a bamboo flute about four feet long. 

After the music, a man made a speech to me 
in behalf of the village. Madsen interpreted for 
him. He said that they were all glad to see me, 
and that they thanked me for coming all the way 
to Pendra Road to see them, and for taking an 
interest in their homes, their church, their 
children, and their school. Also for bringing to 
them the salaams of the American Christians. 
To take back with me to America their salaams 
to my family — my Mem Sahib — and to all the 
churches there. Then they had prayer. The men 
have a prayer service here every night of the 
week. 

This morning I went with Mrs. Madsen to 
the women's meeting in the same place. They 
have a short Bible reading, song and prayer ser- 
vice every morning. Twenty-one women were 
there, and three of them prayed, and all could 
read from the Bible but two. 

Here at Dr. Longdon's bungalow, a mile or 
more from the other, is the tuberculosis sani- 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

tarium. It is the only one of its kind in all the 
central provinces. They give the patients plenty 
of good milk, eggs, and fresh air. Last year they 
dismissed twenty-five as having the disease per- 
manently arrested. The missions are surely 
bringing in life, and light, and hope, to these 
poor people of India. 

Miss Andrus is the nurse, and these two live 
up here alone. They had duck for breakfast, and 
it was good. I stayed for tea. Miss Andrus today 
received a five pound box of candy from America, 
and they were very happy over it. So was I. 
Still happier when I had devoured four big fat 
chocolates. 

India is a wonderful country, and I am see- 
ing new things every day. The trees, how won- 
derful they are. And the rocks, and rivers, and 
lakes are as natural as if they had just been 
turned out of nature's big shop. And the people, 
how full of interest every one of them is. The 
boys and girls are so full of inquisitiveness and 
curiosity, that I want to stay at every station I 
visit. There are ten different jobs I would like 
to do out here. 

Bilaspur, January 20. 
My Girlies: 

I have been here a week. Have been out in 
the country in three directions, north seventeen 
miles, south twenty miles, west today eight miles 
with Miss Kingsbury. You may not know it but 
Mary Kingsbury came to India on the same boat 
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THREE MONTHS WITH THE MISSIONARIES 

with G. L. Wharton, and she has been a mis- 
sionary here for thirty-seven years. She is now 
sixty-three. I had breakfast at her home this 
morning. She knows all the missionaries from 
the beginning, and has seen all our stations 
established. 

They have had a big fair here, the first in 
the history of the Bilaspur District. Mr. Moody 
got first prize on tomatoes, celery, and lettuce. 
Dr. Jennie Crozier got first on her milk buffalo, 
and on her fern. The Girls' School got first on its 
nice map of India. The Commissioner — English 
— was here. He corresponds to the Governor. I 
had tea with him. He was very friendly. The 
D. C. which, being interpreted, means District 
Commissioner was in charge of the fair. He is 
likewise English, and I sat with him at the wrest- 
ling match of Indian wrestlers. 

He said he had to go after the first match. 
There were seven altogether. He was a good 
sport, and I kept asking him about the matches, 
guessing against him as to who would win, and 
he stayed for four of them. There were some 
Indian dances, folk dances, I guess they would be 
called. There was a band of two or three pieces, 
and about twenty dancers. They were all men 
and they danced quite gracefully. Each kept 
the time with his feet and hands, and all of 
course danced separately. No woman in India 
dances, except women with immoral characters. 
It is absolutely against the social custom here! 

I played tennis one night. I played doubles 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

and won, and then an English official took me on 
for singles, and walloped the life out of me. Thus 
America bowed her head before English superi- 
ority. 

We start for camp in the morning to be 
gone three days. It is out in a section where 
evangelists are at work. I am to visit all their 
villages, hear them preach, see the Christians 
and try to encourage them. Our tent went ahead 
tonight in an oxcart. It will be set up and ready 
for us when we arrive. 

The other day out in a village we stopped to 
talk to some men. They salaamed sitting down, 
and Moody told them I was the big Sahib from 
America. Up jumped the chief man, salaamed to 
me three times, walked up close to me and looked 
me all over. I had on my khaki suit, my big 
colored glasses I wear to keep the dirt out of my 
eyes from the motor cycle wheels, and my big 
topi. After he looked me over for about a minute 
he said to Moody: 

"Yes, it's the truth, I see it is the big Sahib 
now." Moody laughed right in his face, and I did 
too after he interpreted to me what had been 
said. 

In one village two of the men had gone back 
into caste who were once Christians. Moody 
talked to them. Finally I asked him to let me take 
a whack at them. I showed them the lens of the 
camera. I told them that whatever a man was 
doing, good or bad, it took a picture of him, just 
as he was ; that God's eye was just like that, that 

[106] 



THREE MONTHS WITH THE MISSIONARIES 

He saw them no matter what they did. That 
God would hold them responsible for all they 
did. They might deceive the Sahib, and deceive 
the evangelists, but they could never deceive 
God. Well, today one of them came in about 
twelve miles with two or three others with him, 
and said that they were ready to repent, and 
come back into the church. 

Tonight since I have been writing this letter 
a young fellow came up in the yard, broke, no 
friends, both parents dead, Hindus had refused 
to care for him, and told him to come to the 
Christians. He said he wanted to be a Christian, 
and would work at masonry, carpentry, or do 
coolie work if necessary. Moody called me out to 
see what was best to do. They are going to try 
him out for a week to discover if he is in earnest. 

Yesterday three women walked in here 
about nine miles and brought two girls about 
like Roma and Lenore, and wanted to put them in 
the girls' school. Neither could read or write, 
had never been to school a day in their lives. 
They stopped Miss Ennis and me on the street 
as we were going from one school to another. 

Things like these are happening every day 
out here. A man stopped me today, and wanted 
to know if I was Mr. Wilson from America. He 
wanted to have an interview with me about 
something. He has been educated in English, 
learned somehow who I am, and when I return 
next Saturday Moody is to send him word, and 
he will come to see me. Another man, a wealthy 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

fellow who owns several villages, wants me to 
help him see the sugar making process when he 
comes to America next year. Another chap, a 
teacher and lawyer, who is now in the hospital, 
sent word that he wanted to have a conference 
with me for two hours. 

So along with all the other things I am try- 
ing to do, interviews with these men, and many 
others, you can readily see that every hour of my 
time is taken. * * * * 

Somewhere in the country. 
January 22. Out from Bilaspur. 
My Own Girls: 

I wrote you yesterday that your letters did 
not arrive. We came out here to visit the vil- 
lages, starting early. When we planned this 
trip we were to come in the motorcycle, but it 
broke down, so we rode on one horse — a white 
fine fellow named Ajax, belonging to Dr. Jennie 
Crozier — and on Moody's bicycle. We took turns 
on the horse and the wheel. 

When we arrived at camp the men had the 
tent up, with everything in good shape. We 
visited several villages today. Tonight when we 
got in we discovered mail. Mrs. Moody knew I 
wanted letters from you. It arrived an hour after 
we left. When she saw one marked Norwood, she 
sent a man who walked the seventeen miles. He 
also brought some magazines. 



[108] 



THREE MONTHS WITH THE MISSIONARIES 

January 26. 

Things have happened so fast and my time 
was so full that I could not write any more in the 
country. We went into one village where there 
are Christians, had a meeting on the veranda of 
the evangelist's house. About a hundred people 
came, among them the Malgazar — the owner of 
the village. They asked me all about America, 
my family, if my girls were all married. 

Moody and the men preached to them, and 
we stayed for over an hour. One of the men sat 
down at Moody's feet, and began to massage his 
legs, as he knew we had traveled a long distance 
that day. Then he came over and massaged mine. 
He said he was very happy to do this for us. The 
Indian people are expert in that. 

This man, with some other men, over thirty 
years ago took a vow that they would kill Mr. 
Adams who was camping out here. They were to 
go up that night, when he was asleep. This man 
seemed to hear something say to him that 
they should not do it, so he informed the 
crowd that he would not help. He slept all 
night in front of the tent to see that no harm 
came to Adams. Later Adams taught him, bap- 
tized him, and he is still faithful to the church, 
although he has never had any chance of educa- 
tion. He is now too old to learn. He brought us a 
big bowl of fresh buffalo milk to drink. It was 
rich and sweet. 

One of the evangelists is a great honey 
hunter. The other night he climbed a big tree 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

while the bees were asleep, brushed them off 
with a bamboo broom, and got about three 
quarts of honey. He sent us a quart, and it was 
great. We went into many villages, had meet- 
ings at 8:45, 11:00, 3:00 and sometimes at sun- 
down. In one village they took up a Thanks- 
giving offering. While the meeting was going 
on two men went away, but soon came back 
carrying two baskets of rice on their heads. 

One morning about eleven-thirty we were 
going over to our tent for breakfast, when some 
men came out of a small village and said there 
was a wild boar in a nearby field. We went that 
way, I was walking with the rifle, and Moody 
was riding Ajax. Soon we heard a yell, and out 
came a big savage looking wild boar, his bristles 
sticking straight up. Moody yelled at me to fol- 
low and he would try and turn him with the 
horse so I could get a shot. Away he went at 
breakneck speed. 

The old boar saw him, turned away from me, 
but Moody got him half turned. I was running 
in their direction over the rough ground as fast 
as I could. Finally they ran back past the vil- 
lage, and half the village had turned out to see 
the chase. When he came into a nearby field there 
was an old woman upon a bed which she kept 
there to sleep on at night while she was guard- 
ing her field. When she saw the boar coming, in- 
stead of staying on her bed where she was safe, 
she jumped down and began to cry. The boar 

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THREE MONTHS WITH THE MISSIONARIES 

charged her, and knocked her over, but did not 
hurt her. 

Moody was on the spot in an instant with 
Ajax, so the boar turned and charged them in- 
stead of stopping to hurt the woman. Finally 
they went over a hill and I lost sight of them but 
was still running with my tongue almost hang- 
ing out. As I came to a big tree there were a half 
dozen boys in it watching the chase from a place 
of safety. They pointed over the hill, and told 
me to hurry and I would get a shot. That gave 
me new wind and courage, so away I sprinted 
again. 

As I was going through a field, back came 
Moody on the horse lickety split, and yelled 
"Give me the gun, quick." He had the old fellow 
about run down, so he told a man in the field to 
watch him, while he hurried back after the gun. I 
followed on, but the old scamp had not kept an 
eye on the pig, so we had to search for him. We 
searched everywhere, in all the fields, bushes etc., 
but got no more trace of him. We were both 
sick over it, but we had a great chase just the 
same. 

When we started back to Bilaspur, we got 
into the last village about sundown where we 
were to camp. We called on the Malgazar. We 
found him out in the street, a big crowd around 
him, with a phonograph, all the pieces in 
Hindi. It was not working well, so Moody — who 
is a fixer of things — fixed it so it worked. Then 
we got to talking to them. One old man said the 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

earth was flat. I took my hat and explained how 
I had started west, was now in India, and would 
keep on going west and get back home again. 
You see, I was right there, and it was all so plain 
that he threw up his hands and said, "You white 
folks know everything." 

We asked the Malgazar to let us put our beds 
on the veranda of the school house, to save 
pitching our tent. He gave us permission. We 
went down soon after dark, but the cart had not 
yet arrived. We waited and waited, finally a man 
came across the fields with a lantern, and said 
the cart wheel had broken down two miles out. 
So we walked back two miles, helped the men un- 
load the tent, put it up, got our supper about 
nine o'clock, and camped there in the country 
for the night. It was a great night, nothing to 
bother us, but the noise of the jackals. 

The next morning the cook had breakfast 
ready at sun up — we ate and started to Bilaspur. 
Now sisters, listen to my story. When about five 
miles from Bilaspur we stopped at a village 
where we have a school. The master said that 
over in the field a short distance was a talau — 
(lake,) and a crocodile lived there, and that he 
lay out every day in the sun to sleep. 

We went across and peeked over the bank. 
There he lay on a little island about as big as 
the top of our dining room table. We backed 
down and went around to the nearest spot. I 
was a little nervous, so I stood by a tree and took 
perfect aim. Bang! He curved up in a quarter 
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THREE MONTHS WITH THE MISSIONARIES 

moon and fell off in the water. Moody swam out 
to the little island, took a long bamboo pole, 
tied a hook on it, fished the bottom of the lake, 
and finally he pulled the old fellow to the top. 

He tied a rope around the top jaw, and 
swam back to shore towing the crocodile after 
him. When we examined him we found the shot 
had gone absolutely perfect. It almost has to, 
for a crocodile, as there are not more than two or 
three inches of space to shoot him. Moody 
skinned him, and I have sent the hide to a 
tannery. 

Bandakpur, January 26. 
My Dearest Star: 

It is not yet sunup. I am sitting out in front 
of my tent, about twelve miles from Damoh, 
where I arrived yesterday, to attend a big Hindu 
mela, or religious festival. Whom do you think I 
am camping with? Mr. and Mrs. Rioch and 
Janet. They are in camp here with their evange- 
lists, preaching to the crowds of people who have 
come to pay their respects to some of their 
numerous gods. 

There is a great crowd here. Some came in 
ox carts, on foot, on the train. It is just a small 
town, no hotels, no place for the people to stay 
except on the ground. I guess they prefer no 
other, for they arrive, unroll their cooking pots, 
and grain, get together a few pieces of wood or 
"buffalo chips" and begin cooking their meal. 

When night comes they roll up in their 
blankets, and go to sleep. I got up early and 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

went down through the camp, and saw them 
lying on the ground like cats and dogs, among 
their cattle and goats, and wagons. Little child- 
ren, boys and girls curled up right out in the 
open, not even under a tree. Why did they not 
go under a tree? Well, most of the near by trees 
are occupied by earlier arrivals. It would be too 
much trouble to go out a block or two to other 
trees. I suppose ten thousand people slept on 
the ground that way last night. 

I heard them singing their monotonous 
songs far into the night. Early this morning I 
heard them singing as they went up the slope of 
the hill past our tent to the little lake about two 
blocks square. I dressed and went with my lan- 
tern to the lake to see what was going on. There 
must have been a thousand people there, and it 
was just getting light. They were bathing, and 
getting water for their morning meal. I asked 
one of them if it was "penicke pani" — drinking 
water, and he said "jee" (yes). 

Imagine a lake of that size, with water about 
like that in the Ohio, and no outlet, no rain 
since I have been here, and perhaps five thousand 
bathed in it yesterday, another thousand already 
this morning, and then having Lenore go up, and 
get a nice pitcher full for lemonade! But this, 
you see, is India! 

There is a holy man down in the bazaar, 

sitting on a bed of spikes. I saw him there last 

night about sundown. He had powdered his face 

with white wood ashes. His hair had been dyed. 

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THREE MONTHS WITH THE MISSIONARIES 

I went down just before sunup to see if lie was 
still there, and found him already up, but sitting 
on the ground by his little fire. 

When I was going over I passed Rioch's tent, 
and found Janet still in bed. Her cot was out 
under the front awning of her tent, and her head 
was sticking out from under the covers. I told 
her to get up. 

Dear Star: 

I did get up, pretty quickly too, and shortly after we 
went up on the talau (lake) bank to watch the people 
bathing. It was very cold, at least for India, and it made 
me shiver to watch them go down into the water and come 
up dripping wet with a vessel full and pour it over their 
poor little stone gods. After '"chota-hazri," (little break- 
fast,) I went out for a ride on Dr. McGavran's horse. 
The roads were inches deep in dust and I met numbers of 
"bail-garries," (bullock-carts,) all going to Bandakpur. 
We went into the bazaar later and on the way we saw 
two women measuring themselves on the ground, one after 
the other, toward the temple. Your father had them stop 
and got a good picture of them lying flat on their faces. 
There are rows and rows of little shops in the bazaar. 
Some have dozens of glass bracelets for sale, others have 
charms to wear around the neck, and they do have wonder- 
ful charms! If you wear one you won't become faint or 
upset, if you wear another the evil eye won't fall on you. 
If it does, the charm, a large seed, cracks, but you can 
mend it again if you drop it in milk. One wonders how 
much these people really do believe and how much they 
think they do. 

Janet Rioch. 

Well, as I was saying, when I arrived here, 
there was a button off my vest, so I had Janet 
sew it on, and when she returned it, she said, 
"Here is your waistcoat." Then I found that a 
button was off one of my soft collars — I wear 
them all the time — so I had her sew that on too. 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

She may be a very valuable and useful person 
yet if she keeps on. 

There are perhaps 20,000 people here, but 
not an automobile, nor a four wheeled wagon nor 
buggy. There are hundreds of oxcarts. 

While up in the crowd I interviewed two 
men who had been nine days in coming here. 
They had carried holy water from a certain river 
all the way, walking. They poured it on the gods 
this morning. They got some water from the 
sacred well here, and will carry it all the way 
back. Another crowd of about twenty-five came 
three days in oxcarts. They are camping with- 
in half a block of our tent. 

"Your father says that I am to leave a line or two for 
him to say Amen. So I have all the rest of the room. It 
was ever so good of you to write a letter to me so that I 
would get it when I got here. I got it when we arrived 
in Hatta on the 11th of January. That was certainly a 
great day for us. I know you must be looking forward 
to seeing your father again. You must miss him dread- 
fully. Give my love to your mother and the girls and 
keep lots for yourself." 

Lovingly, 

Janet. 

Amen, Star: 

Your letter to me in appreciation of mine 
did me a lot of good. It was so kind and thought- 
ful of you to write that kind of a letter. Your 
whole letter was great. I love you bahut — big. 

Dad. 



[H6] 



THREE MONTHS WITH THE MISSIONARIES 

Mungeli, February 2. 
Dearest Girls: 

I had two very interesting experiences on 
my way back to Bilaspur. When I arrived at 
Katni, the junction point, I only had fifteen min- 
utes to change. I went in the dining room of the 
depot and asked them to sell me a lunch. They 
told me to get on the train and they would send it 
over. Soon along came a chap with a big pile 
of something as tall as a bushel basket, all tied 
up in nice white cloth. He put it under my seat, 
told me he would have to ride third class. I was 
riding second class. That fellow went down the 
line until six. When the train stopped he came 
in my compartment, opened up the food, served! 
me soup, about four other courses, and rode to 
the next station while I ate, serving me on the 
way. He then got off and caught the next train 
back. And all for the regular price of the meal at 
the station! How's that for India! ! 

Here's the reverse of it. I was due in Bila- 
spur at 1:30 A. M. The train stays there the re- 
mainder of the night. We arrived at two. Moody 
was not there, so I concluded that it was planned 
for me to sleep in my compartment till morning, 
so I lay down and went to sleep again, with my 
nice big Norwood rug over me. At five o'clock 
someone stuck a lantern in the door, and said: 
"Sahib, Sahib, it's Sidney." Sidney, one of the 
evangelists was there with a tonga after me, as 
Moody's motorcycle was out of commission. I 
went to the bungalow and got to bed for the third 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

time, at half past five. They had told the watch- 
man to call the syce and evangelist at midnight, 
so they would be sure to meet me. But he over- 
slept, called the syce in a hurry, forgot the evan- 
gelist, came to the depot about three, did not see 
me, went back again, called the evangelist, and 
got back at the said hour of five. How's that! ! 
Here is another. Moody started out here to 
Mungeli with me last night about seven, on his 
motor cycle, thirty-two miles. We had wired 
them we would arrive about nine or ten. The 
machine went well until we were within six miles 
of Mungeli, and then it stopped. We had no 
lamp, nor matches, so when a buffalo cart came 
along, we got some matches from the man, also 
some oil for a torch, and we fooled with that 
bloomin' car until 11: 30 and it still would not go. 
A man said he would push the car into town, and 
we rolled up our trousers to keep them out of the 
dust, and started in on foot. The moon was 
almost directly over head, in fact a little north 
of us so that our shadows fell slightly on the 
south side. We met a policeman on the way, who 
guards six miles of road at night. He told us 
that Mr. Saum and some of the Indians were 
about two miles out of town waiting to give us a 
welcome. We walked on, and on, and on, every 
mile seemed to be made of India rubber. We 
finally reached the bungalow at one o'clock. 

Saum had stayed out till twelve and had 
given us up. He said he spent the last hour try- 
ing to explain to his men about ice and snow, 
[118] 



THREE MONTHS WITH THE MISSIONARIES 

and how we can cross a river on ice with a team. 
They have never seen ice nor snow here, and can 
hardly understand it at all. 

It has not rained since the first week I was 
here, the wind has not blown enough to run a 
windmill in all that time. It is good that the 
wind does not blow as it would be awful with all 
this dust and no rain. 

I am to be at Mungeli for nearly two weeks, 
and then comes the convention. This is the last 
station. When I see this I will be clear round 
the circle. I will have been full three months at 
it, and I think I have seen most everything that 
has been going on. I know the missionaries, the 
evangelists, the teachers, the Bible women, the 
cooks, the syces, the sweepers, the personal his- 
tory of every cat, dog, horse, buffalo, ox, and cow 
in the whole mission. 

I also know several crocodiles on sight that I 
have been unable to get a shot at. One fel- 
low about as tall as Lenore, stays in a little lake 
four miles west of Bilaspur. It happens that I 
have passed there several times and I have seen 
him every time, but he is a shy and wily boy. His 
hide would make fine handbags. Then there is 
"old Stubby" who lay out in the sun on the edge 
of the bank sound asleep until I had taken off 
my shoes and walked up a block and a half in 
my socks so as not to disturb him. I got right 
close, peeked around a great tree, finally saw 
where his eye was, cocked my gun, slipped it 
around the tree craftily, without a bit of noise, 

[119] 



DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

slipped my head around still more carefully, 
and just as I was beginning to get aim, he 
splashed off into the water. He has a stubby tail. 

Then there is old "Wideawake" who lies out 
with one eye open. On Saturday as we were 
coming in, I went over there again and finally 
saw him on the shallow side of the lake, out in 
the grass where the water is about six inches 
deep. The only way I could get close to him was 
to wade out. There was an old horse eating out 
there so I pulled off my shoes and socks, pulled 
my trousers up to my knees, and started for him 
with the horse directly between us. I went down 
in mud and water half knee deep, but kept on, 
and when I was two thirds of the way the fool 
horse ran off and woke him up.***** 

This is evening of February 2d. I have been 
around all day with Miss Stella Franklin, sister 
of Josepha. She is in charge of the schools here. 
When I arrived at the school, I found a big 
"Welcome" sign over the gate. Little bamboo 
poles stuck up about every ten feet from the gate 
to the building. On them were little pennants of 
tissue paper. They were put up in my honor. I 
examined the school, the five classes, heard them 
sing and recite some Bible stories. 

Later. ***** 

As I was writing I was called out in the front 
yard at the request of the Indians. It was dark, 
and I saw a big crowd with torches and banners. 
All along the front part of the lawn little lights 

[120] 



THREE MONTHS WITH THE MISSIONARIES 

were burning, and on the fence between our 
bungalow and the church were also lights. 
They are made of earthern cups, burned like 
brick. These cups are about an inch deep 
and about as large around as a tea cup. In these 
cups they put a raw Indian oil and a short 
wick, and light it. At a distance they look much 
like small electric lights. So all these lights 
were going in honor of my presence, about one 
hundred and fifty of them. When all was ready, 
the crowd started down the walk singing "On- 
ward Christian Soldiers" in Hindi. When they 
came up in front of the porch they stopped and 
sang several other songs. 

It was an interesting crowd. All the school 
boys and girls, the native Christians, the 
evangelists, the hospital assistants, etc. One of 
the men had a baby on his head, another baby 
was astride his mother's shoulder, holding on to 
her head, another was astride its little sister's 
hip, the typical Indian way. 

Then Hira Lai, the chief assistant at the 
hospital, who is the leading Christian in the 
Mungeli work, made an address of welcome to 
me in Hindi, and Mr. Saum interpreted to me. 
It made me feel good to have such a wel- 
come. This town is away out in the country so 
far that not many travelers venture out here, so 
it is a big occasion to them to have any one of 
"prominence" come to see them. 

This is Tuesday morning after chota-hazri. 
Last night in the middle of the night I heard a 

[121] 



DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

dog barking. It was the dog of this house, Kalu 
by name. Mr. Saum has a rule that Kalu shall 
not bark by night. I soon heard him after the 
dog, and an unearthly yell broke in upon my ear, 
and ascended to heaven. He was giving the dog 
a few lessons in dog etiquette and pressing the 
lesson home with a bamboo stick. 

Kalu's mother's name was Trixie. She was 
owned by Mr. Sherman, a missionary who is now 
in America. When little Kalu arrived she was 
given to Hazel Cunningham. When the Cun- 
ninghams went to America, little Elizabeth 
Moody inherited Kalu. Kalu was a rather in- 
corrigible dog, so Mr. Moody became im- 
patient of ever having her take on a Christian 
education, and threatened to shoot her. Mrs. 
Moody therefore, being tender hearted, gave 
her to Edith Saum who is eleven, and Kalu made 
the long trip to Mungeli. 

Kalu is a black and white and reddish brown 
dog. Her tail from the dog part, and half way to 
the end is coal black, and the last half is white. 
Her dogly bosom and up to half way on both sides 
is white, and then on top there are streaks of 
black intermittently, like the stripes on a tiger. 
Her nose is white on the end, and part way back 
the reddish brown begins and runs off around her 
eyes, and ears and the top of her head. Some dog! 
But her bark I cannot describe. 

Tomorrow I am to take to the woods. There 
are villages in every direction where there are 
Christians and we are to visit them all in the 

[122] 



THREE MONTHS WITH THE MISSIONARIES 

next two weeks. The roads are not good out 
here, so most of the trips will be on horseback. 
Dr. Crozier said if I wanted Ajax she would 
send him out. I sent word by Moody to have 
him sent on Thursday, so I will have a decent 
horse to ride anyway. 

The Indian gentlemen of Mungeli have just 
sent over a letter inviting Mr. Saum and me to 
play tennis at their club at five this afternoon. 
The advanced Indian gentlemen are refined and 
cultured and as polite as any men to be found in 
America. One man Moody and I called on, on 
Sunday afternoon, has studied law for four years 
in England, and another has written several 
books. He has also figured out a plan for finding 
out any day of the week as far back as 1793. 

He explained the plan to us, and gave us 
each a copy of it. If you want to know on what 
day you were born, or Abraham Lincoln, follow 
those directions, and you can get it without fail. 
This man had us stay for tea, his son served us, 
and put the cream and sugar in his father's cup 
for him. The women folks did not appear. 
That would have been out of place. This man 
was at Bilaspur when Miss Kingsbury arrived 
and called on her and gave her greeting. He 
has been a constant friend of the mission ever 
since, although he has never become a Christian. 



[123] 



DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

Bilaspur, February 12. 
Dearest Eight: 

I will have to put the last part of this letter 
first. It might well be entitled "How I Snared 
Mr. Widewake." I wrote you in my last letter 
about my crafty friend, Mr. Crocodile. When I 
started from Mungeli on Ajax, I began to plan 
my campaign on old Mr. Widewake. The two 
coolies had started early in the morning with 
my baggage, as that was the best way for me to 
get it back to Bilaspur. 

You will remember that I have been chasing 
old Widewake on five different occasions. Once 
he slipped off when he saw me, once he slipped 
off when he heard me, another time when I came 
out from behind the tree, he sensed me and 
away he went. I knew it was my last chance to 
get him. 

After a three hours' ride I reached the vil- 
lage. I took my gun, walked over to the lake, 
and peeped over the bank. Sure enough, 
there he lay on the north bank. They 
always lie on the north bank of a river or lake, 
where the warm sun can shine directly on them. 
They lie with their tails up on the bank and 
their heads right at the water's edge. In this 
way they can slip in in an instant. There old 
Widewake lay, true to form in every respect, 
with his long tail stretched up the side of the 
bank. I walked on tip toe around to the corner 
of the lake about one hundred yards below him. 
There I removed my shoes, and my coat. I then 

[124] 



THREE MONTHS WITH THE MISSIONARIES 

went fifty yards out to get to the opposite tree be- 
yond him. While out there I cocked my gun, so 
that the noise would not waken him. As I 
walked along I took my fountain pen and pencil 
out of my left hand vest pocket, and put them in 
my right hand pocket, so they would not in any 
way interfere with my gun. 

As I approached the tree making no more 
noise than a cat would make slipping up on its 
prey, I wanted to cough and sneeze and scratch 
my back and my nose. But I kept right on. When 
I stuck my head up over the bank I did it so that I 
could see his tail only. In this way he could not 
see me for the tree, and I could guide my foot- 
steps by keeping an eye on his tail. At last I was 
behind the tree. I was a trifle excited. I stood 
by the tree in perfect silence while my nerves 
had time to calm down to normal. 

Prom my hiding place I could see about 
twenty boys sitting on the high bank at the end 
of the lake, about one hundred and fifty yards 
away, their necks craned, watching the proceed- 
ings. I knew then that these Indian boys would 
be greatly disappointed if I missed. 

I gave myself a little lecture. I told myself 
not to shoot in a hurry, not to make a noise as I 
got around where I could shoot, and not to flinch 
just as I pulled the trigger. Having gotten the 
acknowledgment of my own mind that I would 
not do any of these things, I was ready for the 
next step. You see up to this point every step of 
the way was exactly as I had anticipated. I very 

[125] 



DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

carefully stepped around to the side of the tree. I 
poked the gun around the tree and tried to take 
aim. But the tree was so large that I could only- 
see the middle part of his body. So I had to back 
up, flatten myself against the tree with my back 
in, and my face out, and take thus two steps for- 
ward. It took some time to do that without any 
noise but finally I was far enough forward, with 
nothing sticking out except the tip of my nose. 
I again poked my gun very carefully around the 
corner of the tree, and took aim. It looked as if 
I had perfect aim, but I lifted the gun up to see if 
I was aiming too low, then down to see if I was 
too high, and I had it exactly on the right spot. 

The next step was to hold steady and pull the 
trigger. So I said, "Star will not get that grip 
if I jerk quickly, and pull off my aim. Moody 
will not approve if I miss after getting in such a 
good position. And furthermore the old croco- 
dile will laugh at me if he gets away for the sixth 
time." With all these thoughts in mind I said to 
myself that I believed I could shoot the eye out of 
a mosquito at forty yards. The time had come 
therefore to press the trigger. As gently as it 
could be done, yet firmly I kept the bead right on 
his neck and pulled. Bang! Thud! 

Old Mr. Wideawake threw his upper jaw 
wide open, bowed his back, flopped around with 
his head away from the water, his tail down in 
the lake. Having made this last final effort he 
gave up the ghost. By the time he was turned 
around, that crowd of men and boys was there, 
[126] 



THREE MONTHS WITH THE MISSIONARIES 

jumping and pointing and keeping shy lest the 
old fellow should open his mouth in a farewell 
gasp. So ladies, your Dad has snared his second 
crocodile. He measured eight feet long, and Mr. 
Moody thinks his hide will make a grip all right. 
If it will, Star shall have it to take to college 
when she is ready. 

Now having given you a lesson in crocodile 
psychology I will go back to the earlier part of 
my past week. I visited the hospital and leper 
asylum. I made a speech to the lepers. They 
seemed very glad to see me. They got out their 
musical instruments when the meeting was over, 
and sang and played for me. One song was the 
singing of the Ten Commandments. 

They are nearly all Christians and have Sun- 
day school and communion every Sunday. One 
of the lepers has been a teacher and preacher. 
He acts as the head man in the leper church. 
Some of them had made the confession and one 
afternoon they took fifteen of them down to the 
river near by and they were baptized. They have 
a custom out here of cheering for Christ and the 
church. They say, "Victory to Jesus." When 
the baptising was done and the prayer over, all 
the lepers joined and gave a loud cheer, "Victory 
to Jesus." Eight boys from the boarding school 
also were baptized the same day. 

I took a long tour with Mr. Saum into the 
villages. One night we stayed in a church, where 
he had sent the coolies ahead with our bedding. 

[127] 



DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

We rode over the fields and across the country 
about seventeen miles beyond Mungeli. 

Ajax certainly was a great blessing to me, 
as he is sure of foot, pretty, and gallops easily. 
One night we stayed in a school house. Early 
the next morning when I was ready to shave, a 
crowd of school children gathering for the early 
morning school wanted to see the show. I had 
my mirror hung in the door to get the light, and 
they sat down a short distance away to watch 
me. I had the cook bring me some warm water. 
Then I said to the kids, "Dekko, dekko." Which 
means, "See, see." I showed them the little 
piece of shaving cream that comes out. I let 
them see me rub it on until my face was all white, 
and you should have seen their faces and eyes. 
They watched me strop my razor and shave. 
Then they watched with wonder as I washed 
my face with soap, and dried it with a clean 
towel. I showed them my tooth brush, the paste 
as I squeezed it out, and how I brushed my teeth, 
and how white they were when I had finished. I 
never saw a crowd take in a lecture on cleanli- 
ness with more interest than they did. 

I took my mirror out in the sun and made 
the reflection jump on the side of the house, 
the ground, and on their faces. Also let them 
look at themselves. By the time I had finished 
there were twenty-five school children present, 
several men, and a half dozen women in the 
neighboring yards looking on. 

Let me try to make you understand a little 

[128] 



THREE MONTHS WITH THE MISSIONARIES 



as to how these children live. Begin at night 
when they go to bed. They do not put on any 
"nightie," as they have none. They lie down to 
sleep in the same clothes or lack of clothes that 
they wear during the day. Most of them do not 
have a bed, so they roll up in a blanket on the 
floor. They do not wash their feet when they 
go to bed, as the floor and the blankets are as 
dirty as they. It is a dirt floor. 

When they get up in the morning, they do 
not wash their faces, at least most of these had 
not. Nor had they combed their hair. Their 
mothers do not seem to care how they look. 

They go to school without any breakfast. I 
asked nineteen of them if they ate before coming 
to school, and only two had had any food. They 
get only two meals a day. There is no public 
library, no movie, no wide street, no green grass, 
no yards, no stores, in these small villages, noth- 
ing but mud houses, and narrow dirty streets. 

It is a good thing to have the women go to 
the fields to do much of their work. I should think 
they would go crazy in those little low houses. 
In most of the small villages there are no 
schools at all, so the boys and girls grow up with- 
out ever seeing a book, or learning anything 
that would elevate their minds and hearts. 

But you would be able to tell the difference 
with your eyes shut, between the Christians and 
the Hindus. It is manifest on every hand. Saum 
and I met a woman on the road, with a basket on 
her head. As soon as I looked into her face, I 

[129] 



DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

said to Saum, "I'll bet five dollars that woman 
is a Christian." He told me that she is, and 
that she is the wife of a certain man three 
miles away, and that they are both faithful. 
There is a great job yet to be done in India. 



[130] 




A WEEK IN THE JUNGLE 



A WEEK IN THE JUNGLE 



Jungle Camp 

March 7. 
My Dearest Star, Roma, Lenore, Violet, Beth, 

Elaine, Arlene, and Eunice: 

You cannot imagine where I am sitting as I 
write this letter. Away out in the jungle ten 
miles from Damoh, on the banks of a little 
stream, with rocky bottom, and big overhanging 
trees almost touching each other. My tent is 
pitched under two big trees. 

Alexander said I ought to take a week off, 
while he gets ready to go with me to see other 
missions. So here I am, and I will try and give 
you the atmosphere of this wonderful spot, and 
of the surrounding country. Come, travel with 
me for a week in jungle land. 

First you must meet my jungle companions: 
Mr. Benlehr, missionary from Damoh. He has 
in charge the Damoh farm, and the workshop. He 
is said to be the craftiest hunter in the India Mis- 
sion. We all call him Ben for short. Mrs. Ben- 
lehr, Cora by name, is one of the homiest 
women we have in India. She is a good cook, 
good-natured, and does everything she can to 
make our trip happy and successful. She knows 

[133] 



DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

birds, and animals, and loves to be out in the 
open. Robert Benlehr, about seventeen, a chip 
off the old block, tall and strong, a good hunter 
who loves the sport. Helen, eleven, a sweet little 
girl, bright and keen as a new rupee. That's 
the whole family, and they are in a big tent, 
about fifty yards from mine. 

We have a cook, water carrier, guard, and 
four boys from the orphanage — all big boys about 
eighteen — two yoke of oxen, Robert's horse, and 
two bicycles. Also the rifles, and shot guns. 
Robert and I got an early start on 

Thursday morning. 

We were on the road soon after sunup to get 
out here, and do some hunting before breakfast. 
The rest of the family came later, put up the 
tents, got breakfast about 11:30. Robert and I 
stopped at some great hills about two miles from 
camp, staked out his horse, and my bicycle, and 
took to the hills for big game, the sambar. I have 
already told you that the sambar is the king of 
that kind of game in India. When you talk of 
shooting deer, black buck, and chital out here, 
before you are through someone will say, "Have 
you gotten a sambar yet?" If you say "no," they 
put you down as one who has not yet had the 
greatest experience in jungle shooting. 

The sambar is much like a great reindeer, 

with long sprangly horns. He is a tall stately 

fellow, walks like a king, and has a fine coat of 

brown. The female has no horns, but she is a 

[134] 



A WEEK IN THE JUNGLE 



beauty, nevertheless. The sambar goes to the 
valleys at night to eat and drink, but in the day 
time he takes to the hills to lie up in safety. The 
bigger the hill, and the more rocky the ledges, 
the surer you are of finding him. So you see the 
man who goes to hunt down the sambar, match 
wits with him, has a rocky road to travel. 

When we started into the jungle, it was 
planned for me to keep up on the hill about two 
thirds of the way so I could see everything 
to the top, and about half way down. Robert 
took the bottom so he could see the rest of the 
way up the hill. In this way we could pretty 
thoroughly cover the whole hillside. We were 
to whistle a long low whistle now and then, so 
we could keep even, as it was impossible to see 
each other except occasionally. We were to hunt 
that whole hill to a point about two miles further 
down. 

We had just gone round the first great curve, 
when I heard a loud clatter before me, and 
several sambar went thundering over the rocks, 
rustling through the dead leaves, and bumping 
their horns against the limbs. It is a wonderful 
noise, like the rush of a mighty army. I whistled 
to Robert, and up over the hill he went after 
them. Soon he saw a big fellow with long horns, 
and shot at him. You should hear the sound of a 
gun in the forest. It rings out in a clear loud 
tone almost like a bell. Then you soon hear the 
echo, and now and then a re-echo. But Robert 
missed, and there was more thunderous clatter, 

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as they hustled out. We went back to our 
program again, and covered two thirds of 
the way, stopping every now and then, and 
listening intently, to see if we could hear them 
walking, or moving. Soon I heard some below 
me, and I got behind a tree, and sure enough, 
they were moving away from Robert, and coming 
up in my direction. I didn't move a hair, and at 
last out came two does right near me. They were 
large stately ones, tall and graceful. They 
passed, and I heard others coming up, so I 
stood waiting breathlessly in the hope that one 
of the others would be a male. But two calves 
came up, and another female, and that was all. 

We hunted to the end of the hill, and back on 
the other side, but all I saw was several large 
peacocks, and some birds called "Seven 
Sisters." When we got back to our bicycle 
and horse it was nearly twelve, and we had 
covered about six miles of hill country, both 
rocky and jungly. That means that we had to 
crawl through some places, go stooped over in 
others, pull through the briery places in others. 
Just when you want to hurry through, the briers 
stick to your topi, jerk it off if you don't have the 
chin strap down, and usually stick you in two 
or three places. We both came out with 
bloody places on our hands. On a little bush 
about two feet high, near the bicycle, was a 
little slip of paper in a split place. It said, "Sa- 
laam, hunters, if you are hungry, come to camp 
for breakfast." Ben had ridden over, saw our 
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wheel, and went on, leaving the note. When we 
got to camp Mrs. Ben and the cook had a fine 
breakfast and we certainly did it justice. After 
breakfast, I heard that there was a crocodile 
down stream about two miles, so I went down to 
try my luck on him. Ben and Robert went along, 
and sure enough we heard the splash of the old 
crocodile, but did not get to see him. Robert and 
I kept along the stream and farther down some 
boys herding told us that two wild dogs had just 
gone into the bushes. We hurried in and finally 
saw them. They kept going, and we following, 
but we could not get a shot, as they went in and 
out among the trees. Finally we separated, and 
kept hurrying so we could see them. I, at last, 
saw one lying down under a bush. I was so ner- 
vous and excited and hot that I shot too soon 
and missed. 

We went back on the other side to find the 
crocodile. I slipped up and peeked over and saw 
his tail, so I knew he was out. I backed up, to go 
around to a big tree where I could get a shot at 
him. When I was about half way there, an im- 
pudent monkey ran out of some bushes, made a 
face at me, and skipped over to the edge of the 
bank. He found another monkey and they 
jumped into a small tree and began to fight, 
when splash! The crocodile heard the noise 
and off he went. I felt like shooting both of 
those monkeys. Robert threw some rocks at 
them, and they went skipping from tree to tree. 

Back to camp for tea. Tea is a great institu- 
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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

tion out here. It is really a necessity. The dry 
warm climate sort of bakes a person out, so that 
it takes a lot of food and drink to keep up. 
We drink about four to six cups of tea 
at each meal. After tea we went up some 
hills and valleys nearer camp and hunted 
till dark, but saw nothing. As we came back, 
the great gray Indian moon had risen, and 
lighted our way through the jungle. We heard 
the call of the leopard several times, a call like 
the jungle call you have heard them give at the 
Zoo, only it sounds more wild and creepy to hear 
him after night in the jungle, when you know he 
is not behind iron bars! 

Totals for the day: Got no game at all. Saw 
several sambar. Saw two crocodiles. Ben saw 
two black buck. Saw two wild dogs. Plenty of 
pea fowl. Rode on bicycle about twelve, and 
walked altogether about twenty miles, and had a 
lot of good experience. 

Friday. 

Got up at five, had chota hazri, and were on 
our way to the jungle soon after sunup. Robert 
and I went ahead to sit by the road where the 
animals cross, while Ben and the boys came up 
from the river in a wide path to drive them 
along. As we sat there waiting, it seemed to me 
that there were a thousand different kinds of 
birds singing their morning hymns of praise. We 
were not in the places where the sambar crossed. 
One long horned fellow crossed above me, and 

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about ten below me, and at least ten or a dozen 
on each side of Robert too far to shoot That 
meant that we had to roll up our sleeves again, 
plunge into the jungle, and hunt them out. We 
hunted up one long hill. About ten does came 
out, but no bucks. We hunted another hill. A 
doe came out right close to me. We hunted down 
another hill, but no game. Then we started 
down the last hill on our way back to the road, 
and home. Robert was on top, I was half way 
down, Ben and the boys at the bottom. When we 
were near the end, out ran a big buck, thunder, 
clatter, down towards Ben. He stopped within 
fifty yards of Ben and bang went the gun. In a 
moment another shot rang out. Then Ben's "yo- 
ho," and we knew that sambar number 1 was 
accounted for. He had fine big horns. Ben 
said he would give his hide and horns to me. I 
told him "nothing doing," that I would take only 
what I had killed myself. There is another 
day coming. After getting him ready, and send- 
ing a boy after the oxcart to bring him in, we 
started to finish the hill. We saw a herd of 
twenty or thirty wild pigs, but could get no shot 
at them. 

We took a rest, had tea about four, and went 
out to a different jungle to hunt again. Ben and 
I were sneaking along when we heard a noise in 
some bushes. We stooped over and saw a lot 
of wild hogs going out. I sat down, and one old 
fellow stopped, turned around, and looked right 
at us. His big ears were spread out, and he cer- 

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tainly looked ferocious. I took good aim, and let 
him have it. Over he went "like he had been 
shot with a gun." He had. When Ben was stick- 
ing him he saw two bullet holes, and then we 
discovered that we both had shot at exactly the 
same time, neither of us knowing the other had 
fired. So credit me up with one half of a wild 
boar. 

Totals for the day. One sambar for Ben, and 
a wild pig between us. It was my only shot of 
the day. Walked about fifteen miles, and rode 
about twelve on the bicycle. 

Saturday. 

An old Rajah lives off about eight miles 
from our camp. Ben had asked permission to 
go over into his jungle and shoot chital. He sent 
us word to come, but that his elephant was out of 
commission and he could not send for us. So we 
went on our wheels, partly on good roads, partly 
on bad, partly on high rough paths through the 
fields where it was hard to walk, let alone ride. 
But we went. 

When we got to the river, a boy in a hollow 
log canoe rowed us over, pushing the canoe 
with a long bamboo pole. We took along some 
sandwiches and raw tomatoes, thinking we 
might not get back for breakfast. 

We had not been in the jungle five minutes 

before up jumped a herd of twenty or more 

chital. The chital is the spotted deer. He has 

spots much like a leopard. He is bigger than the 

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ordinary black buck. He is also much shyer. 
The black buck goes into the wheat fields in the 
day time, and you often get him there and just in 
the edge of the jungle. The chital goes into the 
wheatfields at night and back into the heavier 
jungle in the day time. His horns are large and 
sprangly and when it comes to beauty, he takes 
the blue ribbon. 

Well, we stalked those chital for about an 
hour, and finally we saw an open space where it 
looked as if they were going to cross. I sat down 
where I could cover the space with my gun, and 
waited. Several does went across, and then a 
big buck, but he did not stop. Then came a large 
long-horned buck. He walked out in the middle 
of the open space, and as luck would have it, 
stopped and began scratching himself with his 
horns. I took good aim and let him have it. 
Hurrah! Down he came. My bullet had gone 
absolutely true, and my first chital in forty-two 
years came tumbling down. Ben skinned him, 
his hide is already sent off to be cured, and I am 
having his horns removed to bring home with 
me. They are thirty and a half inches long. 

When we started home it was dark. We got 
a man with one of those little Bible lamps with 
a rag wick in it, to show us the path. We 
walked, and walked, and walked, and walked, 
over all kinds of paths, and at last came to a 
path which led to the good road. But it had dirt 
five or six inches deep. It had not rained for 
nearly six months, and the travel of oxen and 

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carts on the road makes the dust dreadful. But 
the redeeming thing about it is that it does not 
blow. We would ride a hundred yards in deep 
dust, have to get off, walk, ride again. The moon 
came up and after a long time we struck the 
good road, and got home about a quarter of ten. 
Supper was ready. Robert had gone into Damoh 
instead of going with us. When he came back 
h^ had killed two pea fowls. We had one for our 
supper, and there was not much left of him, 
when we finished. 

Totals: One chital, and nearly a hundred 
seen. A lot of monkeys seen, and several pea 
fowls. Walked at least fifteen miles, and rode 
on bicycles about fifteen or twenty. Great appe- 
tite, and fully appeased. 

Sunday. 

I have told you of our camp. It is now 
afternoon. Several boys have been chasing 
monkeys around the stream nearly all day. The 
Indian boy and the monkey are mortal enemies. 
The boys grind their teeth at the monkeys, 
which makes them very angry, and they will 
sometimes jump at the boys. The little baby 
monkeys cling to their mother's breast with all 
four feet and tail, and the mothers jump from 
limb to limb, and those little babies never fall off. 
It is a great sight to see them jumping from one 
tree to another. 

This has been a quiet, restful day. We took 
an inventory of the birds we saw this morning, 

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and for the last three days. It seems hardly- 
possible, but here is the list. If I had had no 
shooting at all, to have sensed the jungle, to have 
seen the animals, and to have heard the birds 
sing, and seen their many colors, would have 
been worth the trip here. It has been very help- 
ful and restful even though I have walked 
seventy-five miles the last four days. 

But to come back to the birds. I wish I could 
take their pictures with their colors, but that of 
course is impossible. But use your imagination, 
and maybe you can see some of them. 1. Vul- 
tures, black, white, brown. 2. Pea fowl. 3. Black 
partridge, like a quail, but three times as large 
and good. 4. Crow. 5. Raven. 6. Sarus crane, 
six feet tall, and very large. 7. Water hen. 8. 
Ducks, three kinds. 9. Green pigeons, three vari- 
eties. 10. Kingfisher. 11. Magpie. 12. Water 
wagtails. 13. Purple honeysucker. 14. Mina, 
with black and white wings. 15. Seven sisters. 16. 
Green bee eater. 17. Minavets, rose colored 
breast. 18. Shrike, butcher bird. 19. Red Start, 
red breast and brown tail. 20. Munia. 21. Para- 
keet, green all over and a variety of parrot. 22. 
Owls. 23. Hawks. 24. Fan-Tailed Fly Catcher. 
25. Lark. 26. Roller, Indian Blue Jay. 27. Crow 
Pheasant. 28. Hoopoe. It says in the Bible some- 
where "The hoopoe shall make her nest there," 
when it speaks of the destruction of Nineveh. 
Look it up. 29. Bulbul, black head and brown 
body. 30. Woodpecker, three varieties. 31. 
King crow, with boat shaped tail. 32. Snake 

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bird, sometimes called the Phoenix bird. He 
stays in the water, has a very slim beak and 
neck, and walks or swims under the water, with 
just his head and neck out, and looks almost 
exactly like a snake. 33. Night Jar, whippoorwill. 
34. Swallows. 35. Tailor bird, a bronze green. 
36. Golden Oriole. 37. Quails. 38. Big Snipes. 
39. Water Heron, big white birds. 40. Lapwing, 
white short wing. When they sing it sounds 
like "Did you do it," "did you do it." Some folks 
call them the "did you do its." 41. Starlings, 
salmon colored breasts. 

Do you wonder that the jungle has a call to 
a fellow, who every now and then has the "urge" 
of the wanderlust come upon him? I know it is 
going to do me good as long as I am in India, 
and for a long time after I leave. It is hardening 
me up in great shape. Salaam, for a new day 
and some new experiences. 

Monday. 

And now for a great story. Ben blew the 
whistle at five, and I was up and shaved and had 
chota-hazri a little after six. It was to be another 
day for hunting sambar. We got on our bikes, 
and went up to the same place where we had 
watched before. I took my station. Ben to my 
right, and Robert to my left, each a couple of 
hundred yards away. I sat down in a ditch by the 
side of the road, facing the jungle. When I 
rested on my knees, my head was up over the 
edge so my eyes could see the whole line. I 

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A WEEK IN THE JUNGLE 



supposed it would be a half hour before they 
would come up, as the boys had just started 
in a mile below. I sat down on the ground, with 
both ears open, and waited. It was just a few 
minutes after seven. The air was nice and cool, 
and no wind was blowing. The birds were all 
singing, it seemed at least a hundred of them. 
The bugs were also singing, the crickets going 
strong. Every now and then a leaf would fall, or 
the slightest wind would stir the dead leaves. It 
was then my imagination worked over time, and 
I peopled the jungle in front of me with all kinds 
of animals. It seemed that every noise was a 
sambar coming up to me. The imagination, I 
find, is a wonderful thing in the jungle. When 
you really see no actual animals, you can con- 
jure up a thousand of them, and have all kinds 
of exciting chases. 

As I was doing all this, I suddenly heard a 
noise in front. My gun was cocked and ready, up 
went my head slowly behind the small bush 
about eighteen inches high. As my head came up, 
I saw a large sambar doe coming down through 
the thick trees, at the very spot where I was 
hiding. But she saw me, for they are keen 
eyed as any man dare to be. I did not move 
a muscle after I got my head up, nor did I 
take my head down. By keeping it there 
without moving, it looked like a brown stone, 
with my topi on. But she scooted back up 
the hill a few yards, turned and looked, and 
looked. I stayed right there, never moving. And 

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as my eyes searched the trees, I saw ten or twelve 
moving about. There were four big bucks among 
them, all with long antlers. One old fellow had 
taken the alarm from the doe, and had his head 
up in the air, his ears out to hear the slightest 
sound. He stood three quarters to me, behind 
three trees, and I knew that a shot at him would 
be too risky. The other bucks were in the 
bushes, none of them plain enough so I could get 
a square shot. So the only thing I could do was 
to wait. And when you sit there with nothing to 
do but wait and watch, it is about the hardest 
thing going. 

Several of them looked, but I did not move 
my head, so they at last concluded that they 
might have been mistaken, and began moving 
around quietly, but not coming any closer. I 
could see a pair of horns through the bushes and 
trees, and maybe a hind leg. Question? Should 
I risk a shot? Or should I wait for a surer 
chance? And if I waited, and they ran away, 
would I not kick myself for not having taken a 
chance? And would not Ben and Robert be dis- 
appointed if I let them get away? You see what 
a sort of nervous strain it puts on a fellow, when 
he is not sure what is the right thing to do. One 
false move would spoil the whole thing. A shot 
missed would destroy all chance, for they would 
never wait for another. 

After all this, which took at least five min- 
utes, I found that the way I was sitting was im- 
possible, as my legs were getting very tired. I 

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had to change from sitting on my toes, to get 
down on my knees, and still keep my head at the 
same level without moving. So I moved one leg, 
then the other, but my toes were still bent under. 
When I got on my knees, I took one hand and 
slipped it back, and straightened out one foot. 
Then with the other hand, the other foot. By 
the time this was done, one old buck had moved 
down among the bushes nearer my right, but still 
only partly visible. Then he turned to the left 
and crossed in front of me, and at the point 
exactly in front he stopped for an instant. I had 
my gun on the spot right behind his shoulder, and 
waited another instant to make sure my aim was 
right, and that I was not nervous, and pulled 
the trigger. Hip! Hip! Hurrah! 

Down came old Mr. Sambar, the stateliest, 
craftiest, and strongest animal to be found in the 
jungles of Hindustan. That is, of the deer or elk 
variety. He is the acme of perfection, the one 
consummation "devoutly to be wished" by every 
hunter who goes into the jungle for big game. I 
gave the call, and up came Ben and Robert, and 
when Ben saw the great animal on the ground, 
he gave out four yells that went rumbling down 
the hillsides for miles. It was just 7:30 in the 
morning. Not so bad for an early morning hunt! 
The boys came up, and they gave another yell. 
It was a great sight there on the hillside. The 
brown boys, the sambar, the great hills and 
trees and rocks, and we three Americans. And it 
was Roma's birthday! So when I bring the big 

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horns home, they shall belong to her and me. 
"Have you got a sambar yet?" "Oh, yes, I got a 
big fellow, with horns nearly three feet long!" 

When we got back Mrs. Ben and the 
cook had dinner ready, and we fell to and ate 
ravishly. Totals for the day: Walked about 
eighteen miles, rode on the bicycle about five 
miles. One great Sambar. We saw a four horned 
antelope, and a chinkara — small deer. Also 
several other doe sambars in the big jungle. Oh 
yes, I forgot to say that we lost our bearings in 
the big jungle, and Ben climbed a tall tree to dis- 
cover some land mark. He saw a lake that we 
knew, and then found our way back easily. We 
also saw several other birds that I did not have in 
the other list. Here they are: 1. Harewa, green as 
the greenest leaves. 2. Snippet, a wader who 
bores in the mud for his food. White near his 
tail. 3. Sand grouse, like a prairie chicken. 4. 
Pish Owl. 5. Iora, yellow and green. 6. Pond 
Heron. 7. Bandicoot, half duck. Not good to eat, 
not pretty. 8. Rail, water hen. 9. Doves. Ring 
dove, mottled dove, little gray dove, rose ringed 
dove. 10. Coppersmith. 11. Black Partridge. 12. 
Finch, or ground lark. 13. Sheitpoak, like a big 
heron, large bill. 14. Weaver bird. He makes the 
most wonderful nest. A long hallway like the 
neck of a bottle about a foot long, then makes a 
bay window in it for his nest. 15. Bengal pitta. 
Has nine colors. 

Item: Mrs. Ben's cook is a Mohammedan. 
Therefore he will not touch pork She had bacon 

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for breakfast yesterday morning, so she had to 
cook it, serve it, and wash the dishes that had 
the pork on. He wears black whiskers. 

Item: We had chital steak for dinner, also 
chital brains. 

Wednesday. 

Jungle Camp, March 10. 
Dearest Folks at Home: 

I told you in my last that we saw two 
nilgai, or blue bull. They are a very rare 
animal, and not all the folks who are in India, 
or who come to India, get to see them. 

Well, Ben figured out a little nilgai psy- 
chology. That if they were on that side of the 
road, they had probably gone across into the 
fields about four or five miles beyond, and were 
just returning to lie up on the hills for the day. 
Also that if they went there one night, and 
crossed the road at a certain place, it was possible 
that they would do the same thing again. I have 
heard there is a peculiar psychology of wrong- 
doing, that a thief or a murderer, will often re- 
turn near the scene, just to see how it looks 
again. Police have learned that, and often 
catch a lawbreaker where they otherwise would 
not. 

Anyway Ben said that Robert and I should 
go down along the road, and the three or 
four boys could go into the jungle and make 
some noise. Where only a few boys go in, it is not 
called a "honk." I insisted on Robert staying at 

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the best place, as I had bagged more game than 
he had, and was anxious for him to get some- 
thing. He is just a fine big seventeen year old boy, 
and if my heart leaps with joy when I bring 
down a fine big animal, what must it be for 
a boy? 

I sat behind some small bushes, cocked my 
gun, laid it down by my left hand side where I 
could get it at a moment's warning. It was 
seven thirty, and another great morning. 1 
waited until eight and nothing came out, when 
I began to think that nothing would come out. 
But I had read a pamphlet on tiger shooting, 
which said that many a tiger gets away, because 
the hunter relaxes his vigil and the tiger comes 
when he is not looking. So I decided to watch 
as carefully as if I had just arrived. 

Five minutes more, then a noise in the 
thick bushes out in front of me. I peered through, 
and saw the legs of an animal, then two more. 
They started to my left and as the front one 
passed a little open spot I saw it was a nilgai. 
I quickly cast my eyes in front of the animal, 
and saw an open space about six feet wide near 
the road. In front of that open space were some 
big bushes, and I figured that it would stop there 
an instant to look, before it ran across the road. 
How my mind worked all that out, is a marvel 
to me, for I had not anticipated that move. A 
few days in the jungle seems to make a person's 
mind work like lightning. It needs to, if you 
outwit and bring down these wary inhabitants. 
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So I left the animal, and turned my gun and 
got good aim at that spot. Here came the nilgai 
at a fast trot. As I had thought, it suddenly 
stopped behind those bushes, and then started. 
Just as it started, I pulled the trigger. Down it 
came in a heap. The bullet was fleeter than the 
blue bull, and it struck him within two inches 
of exactly the right spot. The other two plunged 
back into the jungle, and as I listened I heard 
them running towards the left where Robert 
was stationed. They rarely turn back, but go to 
the right or left and cross. Within a minute, 
Bang! went Robert's gun, and he got one also. 
When the boys came up, and Robert and I got 
together, there was great rejoicing. 

When we got back into camp, Mrs. Ben had 
packed up, and gone six miles farther, to the 
junction of two larger streams, where we are to 
stay the rest of the time. As was to be expected, 
when Mrs. Ben left, the men forgot the lamps 
and several other things, which should have 
been on the first load. 

After tea, we went into our new jungle to 
explore what was there, and get ready for a real 
hunt tomorrow. The river is about half as wide 
as the Ohio, but very clear water, rocky and 
sandy bottom. There is no bridge here, no boat, 
but there is a crossing of shallow water about 
knee deep at a narrow place. We had to take 
off our shoes and wade across. We saw tracks, 
and other signs of chital, and sambar in the 
jungle. I saw two doe sambar but that was all. 

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We did not get back until after dark, and had 
to wade the stream again. The boys made two 
fires, one on each side of the table, and kept 
putting wood on so we could see to eat our sup- 
per. They came up and made a little fire in 
front of my tent, so I could see to get into bed. 
Great sleep, tent all open, cool nights, blue sky 
and silent stars. 

Thursday. 

An old fellow, boatman and guide, brought 
up a hollow log canoe this morning, and took us 
across the river. It is a very skittish thing, the 
boatman and but one man can ride in it. If you 
shift your chewing gum from one side to the 
other, it almost upsets the thing. We went 
into some places where the animals are likely to 
cross, and let the men go through and make the 
usual noises. Nothing came out. Another try, 
and nothing came out. At the third try I was 
under a great tree, and in front of the tree, 
and on each side there were some bushes about 
like that bush in the back yard where we hid 
the watermelon, only denser and thicker. I 
sat there, turning my head from one side to 
the other to watch both sides of the open space. 
It is very peculiar how my ears have become so 
acute, that the least noise can be heard. A bird 
flying near your head stirs up the air and you 
can hear the rush of his wings. 

After a while, I heard a noise down a little 
dip, which leads into a deep ravine. I could 

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hear something coming closer and closer up 
that dip, very quietly, but I was sure it was get- 
ting nearer the top, from the rustle of the leaves. 
The top of the dip was about sixty yards away 
from me, and soon I saw the long brown red- 
dish hair on the back of a wild boar come into 
view. How my heart leaped! 

Ben and I got one together, you remember, 
but that did not satisfy me. And here was an 
old fellow's back just in view. Then out he 
came, then another, then three more. The one 
in front was a big fellow, and they started in a 
fast trot across the space in front of me. I 
already had my gun on him, just about to shoot, 
when he stopped and sniffed at a little tuft of 
grass. That was my chance. I got the aim 
right over his heart, and as he started I fired. 
"It's great to see them fall." He tumbled over 
in his tracks, gave a few quivers and that was 
the last he knew. 

The others, strange to say, turned and 
charged back into the bushes. When one of 
their number is killed, they often get vicious. 
So I reloaded and sat breathless, waiting for 
them to emerge again. Soon I heard what I 
thought were two animals, walking very cau- 
tiously on the other side of my big tree. I did 
not dare to move, lest they run away, and I did 
not dare to sit there if they happened to be wild 
boars. For they could come from behind the 
tree, and be within ten feet of me. At last I 
heard the one in front, coming around to the 

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left, so I knew the other would follow. That 
eased me up, .for I knew if I got the first one, 
the other would run. So I pointed my gun at the 
only spot where he could come. Closer, and 
closer he came, until I could hear him right be- 
hind the tree. My heart was pumping forty miles 
an hour, but my nerves were absolutely steady. 
Pit, pat, pat pit, went the feet on the dry leaves. 
Suddenly I saw a blue black body, and had 
my finger pressing gently on the trigger, when he 
stuck his head around the bush and saw me. 
Flutter! he went up over the bushes, his big long 
beautiful tail spreading in the air as he went. 
It was a peacock! Just then the hen stuck 
her head around, and up she went over the trees 
likewise. Well, as I relaxed, I wanted to roll 
over and yell. But there was no time for that 
as another pig might come out. But no more 
pigs came. The boys tied the legs of the boar 
together, and carried him into camp with the 
assistance of two or three forest guides. The 
guides wanted some meat, and we gave them the 
two shoulders and one of the sides, and they 
went away very happy 

After tea, Ben said that we must try for a 
chinkara. The chinkara, or gazelle, is the nifti- 
est little animal to be found in India. It is 
smaller than the deer, looks much like a deer, 
but is more skittish, and harder to shoot. It 
moves around all the time much like Beth does, 
only with quicker movements. It switches its 
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A WEEK IN THE JUNGLE 



tail all the time. The horns do not branch like 
those of the chital or sambar. 

We got our bicycles, and rode out along the 
road, for they very often are to be found along 
the road instead of in the dense jungle. We 
rode three miles along the main road, and saw 
nothing. Then we went into a side road that 
leads through a very beautiful stretch of forest, 
almost as beautiful as Eden Park, only natural 
trees and forests. We watched both sides of the 
road, riding slowly. Nearly sundown, and we 
had seen nothing. But Ben is a wise old scout, 
and : he said that it was bad luck to turn back 
before you saw what you were looking for. So 
we ploughed on. 

Finally at sundown we saw a bunch of eight 
or ten on the right hand side of the road. And 
now, I record the queerest item of animal psy- 
chology that I have ever seen anywhere. We 
stopped, got off, but they ran on ahead of us too 
far away to shoot. They crossed over to the left 
side of the road, and we got on our wheels 
and started after them. Question? Should we 
ride fast enough to catch up or ride slowly so 
we would not frighten them? We decided on the 
latter, although they kept far ahead of us. We 
rode on, and they ran on. At last we got fairly 
close, got off again, and I tried to get a shot. 
But they shied off, quietly switching their tails. 
We stood perfectly still, as they skitted about. 
Then the strange thing happened. 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

The buck, or rather one of them, for there 
were two, turned and galloped back toward us, 
about sixty yards from the road. I got my aim 
on him as he came along. As he walked through 
an open space between some trees I fired, and 
down he came. Ben said, "Sahib, you are a first 
rate hunter, you get everything that comes 
along." 

It was getting dusk, and we were six miles 
from camp with a chinkara on our hands. Ben 
cleaned him. Then we took ropes and tied him 
on the handle-bars of my bicycle. By the time 
we were ready to start, it was just dark. The 
moon was not up, so away we went up the road, 
I ahead, with my eyes feeling out the road, and 
pumping as fast as I could to get out of this 
side road before it got pitch dark. I kept right 
on and on, although I could not hear Ben behind 
me. I bumped into a stone and nearly went off. 
I got into the deep dust, and was nearly thrown 
two or three times. But finally I reached the big 
road and rang my bell, but no answer. I waited, 
and after ten minutes Ben showed up. He had 
left his knife where we had cleaned the animal, 
and had to go back. 

When we got into camp, Mrs. Ben had 
supper ready, steak from the nilgai. It was 
great. They say that the head of this gazelle 
is so rare that I should have it mounted. So I 
am going to bring both its hide and its head. 

Item: Our camp is a wonderful place. My 
tent is under a great mango tree, which is in full 
[156] 



A WEEK IN THE JUNGLE 

bloom. The fragrance is delightful. In front 
of my tent is a tamarind tree, that Ben thinks 
is 800 years old. They grow very slowly. He 
thinks the mango tree is over a hundred years 
old. 

Item: Robert has been in swimming, in 
March, what do you think of that? Helen 
brought her turtle over from the other camp in 
a little bag. She took it down to the river, and 
made a sand box for it, and carried up water and 
filled it. The turtle had the time of his life. 
But he was always gearing off towards the 
river. Once when she sat down to take off 
her shoes to go wading, the turtle digged and 
scratched until he went "over the top." 
Away he skidded into the water with Helen 
after him. But she was too late. 

Friday. 

This afternoon when the men came up to 
get their pay, the leader said, "Don't charge the 
Sahib too much, as he has helped us by killing 
these pests." It was a treat to see Ben paying 
them. They all sat down under a big tree in 
front of him. He asked each man his name 
and wrote it down. Then he called the roll, and 
they answered "here." As he paid them, they 
all said they would be glad to take less if they 
could have some meat. They were told they 
could have some, and as I am writing under 
another big mango tree, Ben and the men are 
dividing up the pigs. 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

They take the long bristles from the top 
of their backs, and make brushes for sale. Bach 
pig is completely shaved along the back as far 
as there are bristles. Since I have been writing, 
a dozen of the men have been to see the type- 
writer work. They thought it was a wonder, as 
I showed them the different parts. 

We had pork steak for breakfast today 
about two o'clock. It was from the pig I killed 
yesterday. We all agreed that the best meat we 
had had in camp was this pork. It was simply 
scrumptious. But Mrs. Ben had to cook it, and 
serve it, as the cook would not touch it. He 
poured the water, and passed the bread, pota- 
toes, and other things. Ben has taken the lard 
out of the biggest pigs, and they will have lard 
for sometime to come. The men are now ready 
to start with their meat, and they are like a 
pack of small boys, each wanting to get the 
biggest piece. Ben has just given them a lecture, 
and lined them up, and is getting it divided 
fairly. One fellow just tried to slip away with 
a whole ham, but had to divide it with another. 
Now they are off. Some to wade the river, and 
get home in an hour. Some to go off through 
the jungle to their villages. Some, no doubt 
after they get home, will go into their fields to 
watch all night to keep the animals out of their 
grain. You see we are really rendering these 
poor folks a service when we kill off some of 
these animals, and also give them some of the 
meat. 

[158] 



A WEEK IN THE JUNGLE 



Item: The wheat harvest has begun. The 
people from the hills are traveling down to the 
valleys to help harvest the grain. The roads 
are full of them. The whole family goes, father, 
mother, and all the youngsters. All the grain of 
India is cut by hand. These folks cut twenty 
bundles of grain, and then they get one. Twenty 
more, and get one. They are paid entirely in 
grain. As they go and come, they sleep under 
the trees along the road. They cook their food 
over an open fire, get their water from the river 
or the big public wells, and go on their way. To- 
morrow we break camp, and my hunting days 
are over. 

Saturday. 

When we had had our "little breakfast," 
Robert and I rode about two miles to the top of 
a great hill, and left our wheel and horse there. 
We struck off to the right over a long ridge 
which leads in the general direction of where 
we were to have breakfast. We followed that 
hill for about four miles and saw doe chinkara, 
and two black buck. We arrived at the creek 
about three miles below the camp, in the vicinity 
of the place where I had tried five times before 
to get that crocodile ; the one where the monkeys 
threw pods and leaves down on me. I had it all 
figured out just how I would slip up on him. You 
have to know these crocodiles and their habits 
before you can get them. This was my last 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

chance. We walked out from the bank of the 
river, so he could not possibly hear us. 

Robert stayed back and I slipped up with- 
out a bit of noise, and peering through, I saw 
him. He was not lying with his tail up the 
bank, as they generally do. He was lying with 
his whole body right along the edge of the 
water. That meant that unless I got him exactly 
right, he could, with two swishes of his tail get 
off in the deep water, and even if I killed him, 
we could not get him. So I looked carefully for 
the right spot behind his eye. I had to stand 
and take an off hand shot, as there was no place 
to get a rest. I took good steady aim, and pulled 
the trigger. The gun snapped! It had never 
snapped before. It is a great gun, and I have 
gotten practically everything at which I have 
shot. The snap, of course, was not loud, and the 
crocodile did not hear it. So I backed away, re- 
loaded as quietly as I could, and slipped up again, 
like an Indian slipping up on his prey. As the 
shot rang out, we heard the old fellow's tail 
begin to lash the water. Three or four heavy 
lashes, and as the smoke cleared away, I saw 
that his tail lashes had driven him farther up on 
the bank. Robert ran like a deer up the stream 
about a hundred yards where there was a shal- 
low crossing, and waded it with his shoes and 
clothes on, and came bounding down the other 
side. 

By the time Robert arrived, he had quit 
moving and was lying with his head and one 

[160] 



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A WEEK IN THE JUNGLE 



front leg in the edge of the water. I yelled at 
Robert to tie the rope around his front leg, but 
be careful about his mouth, as they are very 
hard to kill, and sometimes wake up and take a 
bite out of a fellow. I took off my shoes and 
waded the stream, and we pulled the old fellow 
up into a shady place, and skinned him then 
and there. 

He was a big chap, eight feet, three inches 
long. We tied the hide on a pole, and put it 
over our shoulders, and went trekking our way 
through the forest. We marched into camp 
about two o'clock, but they did not scold us at all 
for being late to breakfast. 

I found out two or three things about a 
crocodile that I did not know before. He has a 
thin, transparent skin which he draws over his 
eyes like a film, when he goes under the water. 
He also has two holes in his upper jaw near the 
end, into which fit two teeth of the lower jaw. 
When he gets hold of his prey and closes in on 
it, he locks up his jaws with those two teeth so 
that it is impossible for anything to get away 
from him. Deliver me from those jaws! But my 
bullet had done the business with him. It had 
gone in at exactly the right spot, and had broken 
his neck in the bargain. It went clear through, 
and smashed against a big bone on the opposite 
side. When we skinned around his neck, we 
found the bullet all flattened out, and I have it 
to bring home. Three crocodiles, not so bad? 
But I cannot bring their hides along with me. 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

It takes about six months to properly tan the 
hide of a crock, so I will have to leave them here 
for Moody and Benlehr to bring next year when 
they come home on furlough. 

I think I have already sent you a list of 
about fifty-eight birds we saw. Here are five 
more. Swallow, Crested Swift, Stork, Wren, 
Rat-tailed Babbler. A total of sixty-three birds. 

Here is a list of animals we saw. 1. Sambar. 
2. Chital. 3. Wild Dog. 4. Black Buck (deer). 5. 
Jackal. 6. Crocodile. 7. Chinkara. 8. Otter. 9. 
Wild Pig. 10. Four horned Antelope. 11. Nil- 
gai, or Blue Bull. 12. Mongoose. 13. Monkey. 
14. Baboon. 15. Brown Squirrel. 16. Chipmunk. 
17. Indian Hare. 18. Turtle. 19. Great green 
Progs. 20. Flying Fox. 21. Bats. 22. Rats. 23. 
Panther. 

There you have the list of the animals that I 
shot. I will have the hides, horns, and head of 
one. Besides that I walked at least one hundred 
and fifty miles in these ten days. It has 
hardened me up in a wonderful way. And I have 
seen the jungle, the great trees, and the wonder- 
ful ranges of hills, and the valleys. I have heard 
and felt the silence of the jungle. My wits have 
been keyed up as nothing else would do it. You 
ought to see me now. I have a beautiful coat of 
Indian tan. But it is likely that I will bleach 
out on the ocean. 



[162] 




ON THE GLOBE TROTTER'S TRAIL 



ON THE GLOBE TROTTER'S TRAIL 



My Dearest Eight: 

Having finished the jungle, please travel 
with me into the realms of religion, relics and 
tombs. Allow me to be your guide. You may 
pay me what you wish, and if I am a good guide, 
and show you "everything," then you can give me 
"bucksheesh." Don't forget that word "buck- 
sheesh." Hitherto you have not heard it much, 
but now you are to travel the paths where the 
globe trotters go and it will spring out at you 
from every turn of the road. 

We are now in Benares, the holiest city of 
India. Home of religion and temples, supersti- 
tion and dirt. It is called the holy city of the 
Hindus. The best view is from the river, the 
sacred Ganges. 

"How much for your boat for three miles on 
the river?" 

"Four Rupees." 

"Too much." 

"How much for your boat?" 

"What will the Sahib pay?" 

"Two Rupees." 

"All right, climb in." 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

We get in a little boat. In fact, a small 
house boat. Inside, the boatmen sleep at night. 
It is their home. The upper deck is for passen- 
gers. 

"Climb up the small ladder please, and let 
the Mem Sahib take the large chair. Miss Sahibs 
the smaller chairs. The little Miss Sahibs must 
sit down or they will fall overboard, and the 
crocodiles will eat them up. Beth, Miss Sahib, 
and Elaine, Miss Sahib, sit down please. 

Yes, Violet, that is a very large crowd of 
people at the river. They come down to bathe 
in the sacred river every morning from about six 
to nine o'clock. Yes, there is a great host of 
women as well as men. 

That temple, Lenore, Miss Sahib, is the 
small-pox temple. If you worship the small- 
pox god you will be cured. So down come hun- 
dreds of people with the small-pox to worship at 
this temple, and to scatter that nice disease 
among their friends. Very sanitary, isn't it? 

That imposing temple, Star, is the Indore 
hotel and temple. It was built by the Rajah 
of Indore, a native state about one thousand 
miles west of here. When his subjects come to 
Benares on pilgrimage they can find lodging at 
the Indore headquarters. 

Roma, Miss Sahib, do you ask about those 
long haired, dirty looking fellows smeared over 
with paint? They are the holy men. See, they 
are scattered all along the water front, a holy 
man for every rod of the way. See that dirty old 

[166] 



ON THE GLOBE TROTTER'S TRAIL 

scamp up on the tower calling out to us? He 
also is one of the holy men of India, and wants 
us to come up that way and see his tower, and to 
give him some bucksheesh. Yes, every lazy long- 
haired fellow along the way, who calls himself a 
holy man is a professional beggar in the name 
of religion. 

Chota Miss Sahib Eunice, see that cow on 
the bank. That is a sacred cow, at the cow 
temple. Bow your sweet little head, dear, to the 
holy sacred cow. See her chewing her holy food. 

Arlene, you are asking about those large 
umbrellas. Well, that is the Brahman place of 
prayer. They are the high caste people of India. 
They would not defile themselves by touching 
the low caste people. No one else must defile 
the water in front of their place of prayer and 
bathing. They are more wealthy, and have put 
up these large umbrella-shaped things to keep 
off the sun in the hotter part of the year. 

Mem Sahib, you say there are so many tem- 
ples? Yes, the whole water front for three or 
four miles is covered with temples and hotels 
in connection. We will just take a picture from 
here, so there will be several temples in the 
view. But these few temples are only the be- 
ginning. There is said to be a temple, a small 
one, in every Hindu home in the whole city. Also 
in nearly every place of business. Also, in 
many public places along the streets back from 
the river. It is estimated that there are 100,000 
temples in the city of Benares alone. 

[167] 



DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

That fine temple we are now passing is the 
Bengali temple. The widows of the Bengalis 
cut their hair, and you can see several old ladies 
at the bank bathing who have very closely 
cropped hair. That ghat beyond was once the 
"suttee ghat" where widows were burned alive, at 
the death of their husbands. That custom was 
stopped in 1829. 

Yes, the water is very nice and clear. It is 
a wonderful river, as wide as the Mississippi. 
But look at the sandy beach on the other 
side stretching out for nearly a half mile. When 
the rains come, the river rises, covers all that 
sand, and becomes a very wide river. Why is it 
called sacred? Because at its source, far up in 
the Himalaya mountains, it is supposed to come 
out of the mouth of the god Mahadeo. It must 
take a good-sized god to spit out that much 
water, don't you think? 

See those little fires just ahead? That is the 
burning ghat, where they bring their dead to be 
burned. The Hindus have no burying grounds, as 
they burn the bodies of their dead. These ghats 
are used every day in the year. Those great piles 
of wood are for sale. A man may buy enough 
wood for rupees 4.8, to burn one body. There, 
see those two piles of red coals? Those bodies 
are just about finished. There are two more 
bodies up on the wood pile, just ready for the 
fire. We will stop the boat and climb up close 
and get a picture. 
[168] 



ON THE GLOBE TROTTER'S TRAIL 

See how simple it is. Just a sheet tied over 
and around the body, with the face covered. It 
is laid on top of the pile of wood without any 
coffin or any other covering. You see the little 
opening under the center of the pile? That is 
where they put some dry hay, and then they 
buy sacred fire from the priest and presto! in an 
hour or so the job is done. There comes the fel- 
low now with some sacred fire. Look at his 
face. He seems to be the only one of the family 
present for the farewell service. He is not weep- 
ing, but is walking down deliberately. Now he is 
putting the fire under it, lighting the hay, now 
the kindling. He is not shedding a tear, nor mak- 
ing any commotion about the matter. The rest 
are going about their own business, and seem to 
be paying no attention to him. 

Here come two fellows carrying another 
body down the bank. Oh, Star, don't you like 
this? Roma, you say you want to get away? 
Well, we have seen two almost entirely burned, 
two on the wood pile, and one starting to burn, 
and one being carried in. When they are all 
finished they will scatter their ashes on the 
sacred river and wend their way back to work 
again. No undertaker gets a rake-off at these 
funerals. The folks can't afford it. One sheet, 
carry the body down themselves, two dollars for 
wood, an anna for the sacred fire, "and ashes to 
water," and good bye. It doesn't cost much to 
die out here! 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

Next is the Nepal temple, built by the king 
of Nepal. The golden dome cost Rupees 80,000. 
That leaning temple dates back before the time 
of Christ. It is sunk down on one side of the 
foundation. The next is the Gwalior house and 
temple, and the next the Nagpur temple, the 
next the Jain temple with its golden towers. 
Next is a Mohammedan mosque and tower. The 
Moslems come here to bathe every Friday. 
There are a host of others but we must get off 
the boat now and go to the famous monkey tem- 
ple in the city. 

"Ah Sahib, we have rowed you, have taken 
you past the many temples, you have a large 
family, and it was heavier rowing, give us a 
little more bucksheesh, bucksheesh, Sahib." 

"Tonga, Sahib, tonga, sir!" 

We will all pile into two one-horse tongas 
and off we go to the monkey temple. "Hutto, 
hutto, get out of the way, hey, hup, hup, 
hut, hutto, hutto, hut boy, hey you beggar clear 
out, hup, etc., etc.," is the lingo of our driver as 
we go up the narrow, dirty crowded streets. Oxen, 
goats, people of every description, tongas com- 
ing and going, oxcarts crossing and recrossing, 
monkeys scampering in and out, beggars running 
after our tongas and crying out "Sahib, sahib, 
bucksheesh, my stomach is empty, sahib, sahib, 
have mercy, bucksheesh." 

Get out here, this is the monkey temple. Oh, 
look at that big fellow. Be careful of him, he is 
a sacred monkey, and has had his way so long 

[170] 



ON THE GLOBE TROTTER'S TRAIL 

that he is cross and bossy. He gets angry at 
times and bites people. "Sahib, buy some pop- 
corn and feed him, and he won't bother you." 
Here come a dozen other monkeys to help him 
eat it. There are a dozen more upon the top of 
the wall; more down around the shrines. See 
that one take the piece of candy out of the old 
woman's hand and eat it. There are about a 
hundred monkeys here, and the god who pre- 
sides over this temple is the monkey god, Han- 
numan, by name. Men Sahib and Miss Sahibs, 
meet Dr. Hannuman, the monkey god of the 
holy city of Benares. Ugh, won't even shake 
hands with the Doctor? Shame! 

You are getting hungry? Bless my soul, 
here it is twelve o'clock and we have'nt had a 
bite since tea early this morning. All right, here 
is a hotel. What will you have? The same all 
over the world, on sea or land, where the English 
prepare the menu. You already know what it is. 

Pile in those tongas again. We are taking 
a five mile ride out in the country to a village 
called Saranath. Temples, and tombs, always 
Mohammedan tombs never Hindu, all along the 
way. Old ruins of the good old days when men 
built temples to their gods and tombs for their 
dead ancestors. 

We are now in Saranath, which is the old 
Benares. This is the place where Buddha came 
out of his buddhahood, and preached his first 
sermon to the world. The old ruins you see 
yonder are at the place where he used to do regu- 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

lar preaching, and this great tower forty or fifty 
feet high is said to have been his preaching 
tower, where he preached to thousands of 
people. And there are a hundred people or 
more at work excavating the ruins to see 
what may be found of historic value. 

Now we enter the museum of the old relics. 
See the pottery, made two thousand years 
ago, and they are making almost exactly the 
same kind today. The grinding mills are 
the same now as then. No progress has been 
made. See the old images of Buddha. The 
artists who carved these have done very good 
work. But note that among all these images of 
Buddha, and hundreds of others among these 
ancient idols, every one is broken. That is the 
work of the Mohammedans. When they con- 
quered and overran India, they went into all the 
temples and shrines, and either destroyed or 
broke all the gods. In nearly every old temple in 
India, broken idols and gods will be found. 

So you see India is not only the home of 
Hinduism but also of Buddhism. But India is 
not a Buddhist country, you say. True, Budd- 
hism has been driven out of India, and its 
largest number of disciples are in Tibet, China, 
and Japan. The Hinduism of India reached out 
like a great jelly fish, laid hold of the Indian 
Buddhism, and absorbed it. About the only 
traces left of it are in the museums and what 
can be seen of its influence on Hinduism. 
[172] 



ON THE GLOBE TROTTER'S TRAIL 

"Sahib, bucksheesh, I have followed you 
around among the ruins, and the museum. I am 
the caretaker here, employed by the govern- 
ment, so sahib, bucksheesh. It is the custom. 
Ah, sahib, salaam, salaam." 

Time for tea. Time for dinner. Time to 
sleep. Get aboard this second class compart- 
ment, and we will sleep while the train takes us 
to the next stop, the city of Lucknow. 

Lucknow, March 16. 
Dearest Everybody: 

This is one of the places where the mutiny 
of 1857 was at its strongest. The Indian troops 
rebelled against English authority, and there 
was internal war for five months. 

The English women were kept inside a 
place called the "Residency," loyal Indian 
troops defending them. In the basement of 
one of the buildings is a deep sub-basement where 
they stayed. It may be that you remember Mr. 
Menzies' speech of the Men and Millions move- 
ment. He told of a Scotch woman down there, 
named Jessie Brown, who had a dream that help 
was coming. She said the next morning, "They 
are coming, I hear them marching, dinna ye 
hear it, dinna ye hear it?" And the next day 
reinforcements came, and the city was saved, 
along with English authority. Well, I was down 
in that basement, and saw the place where she, 
and other women stayed with their children 
through those long, dreary, dreadful months. 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

Cawnpore, March 17. 

This is the great tannery city of India. Here 
come hundreds of hides of all kinds from all 
over India to be cured and tanned. The hide of 
old Mr. Wideawake was sent here and the other 
two, being cured for Star's grip. The mutiny 
was here, and we saw the memorial well, 
church, and gardens, erected in memory of those 
who fought and died to maintain British rule in 
India. 

I am in favor of British rule in India. There 
are some very advanced people among the In- 
dians, but the great rank and file are uneducated 
as you have already gleaned from my former 
letters. Hence they are not prepared to intelli- 
gently vote, and run a government. The many 
castes, religions, and languages, so divide the 
people that self government for the present is 
simply out of the question. 

Agra, March 20. 
City of the Taj Mahal 
It will be necessary for you to meet and 
know an old Mohammedan king named Akbar, 
before you can understand the glory of the Taj 
Mahal. Meet King Akbar, who lived and reigned 
some four hundred years ago. He is the grand- 
father of the man who built the Taj. 

"My honor," says the guide, "you should 

first go to Sikandrah before you see the Taj." 

So we drove out five miles to see the tomb of 

Akbar. He is the great king who brought all 

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ON THE GLOBE TROTTER'S TRAIL 

India under the Mohammedan regime. He built 
this tomb for himself before he died. It is a great 
building, partly of marble, and the tomb itself of 
white marble like the Taj. The fence around 
the tomb, is of marble lattice work. 

"My honor, Akbar was a great builder. He 
built this great tomb, he built the Agra fort, he 
built the whole town of Fatepur-Sikri twenty 
miles away, where there is a fort and tombs and 
a mosque. He was a very wise man, my honor." 

Akbar had three wives. One a Hindu, one a 
Mohammedan, and one a Christian, a Portu- 
guese woman who was a Roman Catholic. He 
must have gotten his cue from Solomon ; anyway 
having one wife from each, pacified all parties 
and he had peace among his subjects. They 
say he went to church every Sunday with his 
Christian wife, to the temple every day with his 
Hindu wife, and to the mosque every Friday 
with his Moslem wife. I said to the guide, "But 
how did he manage to keep these wives from 
quarreling and fighting?" "Oh, my honor, he 
was very wise man. He built house for Hindu 
wife, he built house for Mussulman wife, he 
built house for Christian wife. They must stay 
in own houses, cannot see faces of other wives, 
hence cannot get jealous, my honor." 

We went out to Fatepur-Sikri and saw the 
ruins of an old city great and wonderfully laid 
out, which Akbar abandoned to build even a 
greater in Agra. There was the old town and 
fort, houses there for the three wives, tomb of 

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DAD'S LETTERS UN A WORLD JOURNEY 

his favorite priest in beautiful white marble, 
dome, lattice work, and other parts undoubtedly 
the pattern for the Taj itself, and erected before 
the builder of the Taj was born. There was also 
a great mosque, in perfect repair, the exact size 
and pattern of the great mosque at Mecca. Akbar 
sent his architects to Mecca, got the style, 
measurements, and built something back there 
four hundred years ago as good as that in the 
great Moslem center itself. Rather ambitious, 
don't you think? Our guide who showed us 
through was the priest of that mosque, who 
lectures every Friday when the folks come to 
worship. 

He was a tall, kindly fellow, and showed us 
the tomb of his great grandfather. He says his 
family for four hundred years, or twenty-seven 
generations have been priests. The gate of this 
old and ancient city is of red sandstone and mar- 
ble. It is very imposing and magnificent, and 
said by one Englishman to be the finest gate or 
entrance in the world. Down on the other side 
is a great tower called the elephant's tower 
where Akbar used to sit and watch the ele- 
phants and tigers fight. Imitation elephant's 
tusks stick out like prongs from the bottom clear 
to the top. Our guide showed the Prince of 
Wales, now King George, through this wonder- 
ful place when he visited India. He has a book 
full of recommendations of famous people. 

Well, we must go back to Agra now and see 
the fort, the great mosque, the palace, the pub- 
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ON THE GLOBE TROTTER'S TRAIL 

lie assembly hall, the private assembly hall, the 
great dining room, the wonderful bath rooms, 
which Akbar built. Some of it in white marble. 
He also built his famous peacock throne, and 
other great, spacious buildings. 

Come with me now away from Agra before 
we look at the Taj, and go up to Delhi, capital of 
India, and home of others of the old Kings. 
Akbar's father Humayun, lived at Delhi, and 
there is a great tomb for him, laid out on a large 
scale, white marble, big gates, big mosque. It 
was here the British took over the final author- 
ity to officially rule India. Humayun was a won- 
derful builder. Then came Akbar, who built, and 
enlarged during his reign. Then came his son 
who built other great things in red sand stone 
and marble. His name was Jahangir, and he 
strengthened his government, put down any 
troubles, widened his domains, built up the 
Treasury, and had the whole thing well organ- 
ized at his death. 

Then came his son, Shah Jahan, who built the 
Taj. Now get the connection. First, Humayun ; 
second, his son, Akbar; third, his son, Jahangir; 
fourth, his son, Shah Jahan. Four generations. 
The three who went before Shah Jahan were 
great builders, financiers, warriors, and states- 
men. When Shah Jahan came in, all was at 
peace. The pace had been set. The standards 
had been established. If he built any thing that 
would be noticed at all, it had to be a hummer, 
for they had some hummers before he came 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

upon the scene. So the old boy rolled up his 
sleeves, spit on his hands and said, "Go too, Shah 
Jahan, we'll have to get a hump on ourselves." 
And Shah Jahan built the Taj Mahal, the wonder 
of the world! 

I will not try to describe it. You can read it 
elsewhere better than I can tell it. Two things 

of interest about it. I called "A — h h" as I 

stood by the tomb of the lady of the Taj. The 
echo resounded back and forth among those 
great marble domes and arches for fifteen 
seconds. The second thing. Her tomb, that is, 
the marble part, the size of a grave where she 
lies, is a wonder. It is right in the center under- 
neath the great dome. But when the old man 
himself died, his son Aurungzeb put him in the 
Taj beside his wife, and built a tomb larger 
than hers for him. So the lady of the Taj really, 
after all, takes second place at her own funeral. 
One reason for that was that Shah Jahan 
did such a good job on the Taj that he sort of got 
Taj crazy, and decided that he would build 
another for himself just across the river. So he 
laid out the grounds and started the foundation, 
which is plainly visible from the Taj. But the 
aforesaid son, being the next in line for the 
throne, saw that if Daddy built another Taj, the 
Treasury would likely be over drawn when he 
came to the throne, so he decided the old man 
was crazy, locked him up and took over the 
affairs of state himself. He kept the old man a 
prisoner for a few years, and when he died, in 
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ON THE GLOBE TROTTER'S TRAIL 

order to show the proper respect for him, as a 
dutiful son should, he buried him in the Taj be- 
side his wife. Which explains why the world 
looks at one Taj Mahal instead of two. 

I must tell you one more thing about Delhi. 
On our way out to see that famous Minaret, a 
picture of which I sent you last week, we came to 
a great old observatory, built in 1710. It was 
built to get the movements of the sun, moon and 
stars, and has several great buildings all out in 
the open with the lines and measurements on. It 
fell into a state of decay and disuse but in 1910, 
two hundred years after its erection, a native 
Rajah thinking he might gain a name for him- 
self repaired it. 

I presume it was upon condition that he 
be allowed to put up a tablet telling his title 
and his deed. At least the tablet is there, and 
his full title as follows: "Restored in 1910 by 
the order of Major Gen. His Highness Saramad- 
i-Ranja-ha-i-Hindustan Raj Rajinder. Sir Ma- 
harajadhiraja Sir Sawai Madho Sindhji Bahadur 
Knight Grand Commander of the Most Excellent 
Order of the Star of India. Knight Grand Com- 
mander of the Most Eminent Order of the Indian 
Empire, Knight Grand Cross of the Royal Vic- 
torian Order." If your jaws are not broken you 
may go ahead. 

Ludiahana, March 24. 
There is a great medical college for women 
here under the control of the Presbyterians, the 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

only one of its kind in all India. It and the hos- 
pital in connection, and the dispensary in the 
city, treat over 100,000 patients a year. 

I called one afternoon for a few minutes on 
old Doctor and Mrs. Wherry who came to India 
fifty-three years ago. They came on a sail boat, 
the cargo was ice, and they came around the cape 
of South Africa. Mrs. Wherry was the only 
woman on board. They were the first Protestant 
missionaries in the Punjab, the name for this 
part of North India. 

You know about the "week of prayer" held 
each year in January, for all Protestant missions. 
Well, that was started away out here in north 
India, at Ludiahana, in a little church near Dr. 
Wherry's home. He helped to start it. Is it 
not wonderful how influences spread until they 
sometimes touch the whole world? 

We were also in Amritsar, where there was 
an outbreak last year when five white people 
were killed. There we saw the famous "golden 
temple" of the Sikhs. They are a fighting sect, 
that no doubt took their cue from the Mussul- 
mans. They have a holy book, the Granth, and 
an old priest sits in the golden temple every day 
and reads it, while another priest stands over 
him, and waves a "chaury," a sort of wool fan. 

We were also at Lahore, and saw the great 
Christian college with nine hundred students, 
Hindu, Sikh, Moslem, and Christian. Near 
Lahore, is another great tomb, that of Jahangir, 
son of Akbar. This whole northern country is 

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ON THE GLOBE TROTTER'S TRAIL 

dotted with great tombs of those who have gone 
before. 

March 26. 

Now I come to the last, a very wonderful 
experience, which I did not anticipate. I have not 
told you even the beginning of all I saw, but you 
can guess at the rest. Alexander insisted that I 
spend the week end at Landour, one of the hill 
stations, where the women go during the sum- 
mer heat to keep the children in school, and 
where the missionaries go on their vacations. 

There is a school for missionaries' children. 
A proposition is up now for us to take out a 
partnership in it. You see what a wide range of 
subjects my visit covers. One night's ride from 
Lahore on the plains took us up to a town at the 
foot of the Himalaya mountains. It is two 
thousand feet above sea level. Then we took a 
Ford seven miles up a gentle slope to a town at 
the very foot of the mountains, where they really 
start up. No Ford can go the rest of the way. 

We hired horses to ride up. It was eight 
miles to the top. That road is a wonder. In and 
out, up, and up it goes, over, and around those 
pine clad mountains, rocky and steep, and won- 
derful. As we went up those narrow paths, we 
saw coolies taking baggage up on their backs. 
There is no other way for it to go. 

Great strings of them may be seen coming 
and going, with all sorts of things on their backs. 
Trunks, bedding, big boxes, suitcases, four were 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

carrying a big cupboard. Some were carrying 
sacks of flour and potatoes, in fact every thing 
imaginable that men need to live by and with. 
One fellow was carrying a cat in a box, and a 
parrot in a cage on top of the box. 

One day Alex and I climbed up the last five 
hundred feet to the very top of the hill where we 
could see the great ranges beyond. What do 
you think we saw? About eighty miles distant, 
the great snow ranges of the Himalayas lifted 
their hoary heads from twelve to twenty thous- 
and feet. From where I stood I counted thirty 
snow-capped peaks, which were wonderfully 
beautiful in the clear sunlight. I never saw 
anything in the Rockies that could equal it. As 
the clouds would flit by, we could at times see 
the shadow of a great cloud on a high peak, then 
it would pass off, and show clear white against 
the far horizon. 

Beyond those everlasting hills, some two 
hundred miles or more, lies Tibet. Far up in 
those mountains somewhere is the source of the 
Ganges. And sure it is, that the God who 
fashioned those giant snowy ranges, from whose 
perpetual snows comes the clear water of the 
Ganges, is not the little smeared up god Ma- 
hadeo, that the Hindus talk about and worship 
on the plains. 

It didn't seem possible that it was I, stand- 
ing there taking it all in. I, who was reared near 
the lowly Nebraska sand hills, whose sands used 
to shift with each passing wind. I, the father of 
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ON THE GLOBE TROTTER'S TRAIL 

eight finest girls in the world. I, so far away 
from them, standing up here on the very pinnacle 
of the earth, viewing from afar, the finest and 
highest range of mountains to be found beneath 
the stars. How good fortune has been to me. 

Bombay, April 9. 

I have seen something of Bombay while 
waiting. Yesterday I went out to the Parsis 
"towers of silence." The Parsis are one of the 
peculiar sects of India. Zoroaster was their chief 
mogul. I have forgotten what he believed, and 
taught, but the Parsis have altered it, no doubt. 
At least their plan of burying, or rather not bury- 
ing their dead is different from anything I have 
yet seen, and to me the most repulsive. 

They have up on a high hill, in fact the 
highest point in Bombay, "the towers of 
silence." There are five great towers. They 
carry their dead there, have a ceremony, put the 
naked body in one of these towers, and let the 
vultures devour it. The towers have a pit in- 
side where the bodies are put, and the vultures 
go down in there to do their dirty work. Around 
the top of the towers sit the great ugly birds, like 
sentinels of death, waiting for the men to carry 
in another body. 

There are from five hundred to a thousand 
of them and two hours after a body is 
put in, not a bit of the flesh is left on the bones. 
Nothing but bones left, and these are thrown into 
a deep pit, in the center of the towers, where they 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

decay and turn to dust. The guide told us that 
there is an average of three or four funerals a 
day. The Parsis are a well to do people, fairer 
than the average Indian; most of the women 
wear nice silk saris. The men wear a peculiar 
kind of hat, a sort of slick stovepipe affair with- 
out any rim, and it comes to a sort of dome at 
the top. You can always tell a Parsis when you 
meet him on the street. 

India is quite peculiar in that respect. Every- 
body tags himself out here. The Parsis has his 
funny hat. The Mussulman has his red fez. The 
Mussulman women wear trousers, ugly and with- 
out any style. The Brahman wears his mud signs 
on his forehead. The Bengali goes without a hat. 
The Sikhs wear a peculiar pugri, or head gear 
with a little sword on the top. The Punjabi wears 
a large pugri woven all over his head and dressed 
down in very fine style. And so it goes. We 
don't want to be tagged. They do. They are 
always very happy if they are noticed; always 
proud to explain that they are this or that or the 
other. 

I am writing this out in the shade of the 
house near the street. There are fifteen boys lined 
up on the fence watching me. Most of them are 
Moslem boys from a near by school, and they all 
have on their red fezes. 



[184] 




FROM BOMBAY TO BELGRADE 



FROM BOMBAY TO BELGRADE 



Bombay, April 12. 
My Dear Violet: 

Here's a "pome" for you: 
I sail today with ease, on the Konigin Luise, 
It is riding very smoothly on the ocean, 
It is sailing with the breeze, out upon the briny 

seas, : j i 

With the majesty and poetry of motion. 

As I stand upon the deck (eating peanuts by the 

peck?) 
It was surely not according to my plan 
Yet with garlands on my neck, misty eyes and 

nod and beck 
Wave salaams to all the folks of Hindustan. 

It is sure a pretty boat, not a prettier one afloat, 
Though it has an ugly alien German name. 
But the Allies got their goat, also got their 

pretty boat, 
And the Union Jack is flying just the same. 

It is April twelve today; seven months I hear you 

say 
Since I left my wife and kiddies bright and true. 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

But as I sail away from the harbor in Bombay 
I will come as fast as possible to you. 

I have got a great big box, full of horns and 

hides and (sox), 
Packed with other little boxes in the hay. 
When you see the hide of fox, and the pretty 

little rocks, 
You will surely sing ta ra ra boom de aye! 

There are bracelets, oh so nice, only cost a 

"deshi" pice; 
There are necklaces as dainty as can be; 
There are rings and anklets thrice (packed as 

snug as any mice), 
And some nifty things that Ma can use for tea. 

There are animals of brass, beads of seeds and 

native glass, 
Pretty things for all you kids and mother too. 
Ah, my pretty little lass, I can hear your yells 

enmasse, 
When you gaze upon the things I've "brang" to 

you. 

Oh, 'twill be an opening (land!) as around the 

room you stand, 
With all your expectations running high. 
So when I remove the band of that box so big 

and grand, 
It will be a happy day for you and (I!) 

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FROM BOMBAY TO BELGRADE 

So I sail along with ease on the Konigin Luise, 
She is riding smoothly now upon the ocean. 
She is sailing with the breeze on the misty briny 

seas, 
With the majesty and poetry of motion. 

Instigated by the request of Violet, and per- 
petrated by her Dad just to add a little variety 
to life. 

April 14, 
Indian Ocean, 
Aboard Konigin Luise. 
Dearest Girls : 

Here is a letter I am addressing to His 
Majesty, George V, King of England. You may 
be interested in it, as it bears up national and 
international interests. 

To His Majesty, King George V, 
Buckingham Palace, London. 

April 14, 1920. 
Dear King: 

There are three or four matters that should 
be called to your attention. The first is the 
matter of the flat plate upon which your subjects 
serve dessert at the end of a meal. Last evening 
for dinner I was served one half of an iced pear 
upon one of these large plates, the same kind of 
a flat plate upon which I had been served tough 
goat, (called mutton on the bill of fare) boiled 
potatoes and cabbage. 

The pear was a small one, the plate was 
large, and the pear covered such a small portion 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

of the total floor space of the plate that it seemed 
like a waste of time to start in on it. Further- 
more there was but one spoonful of juice put on 
the plate, and after the waiter had spilled half of 
it on my new white trousers there was not enough 
left to get more than a drop at a time. Now the 
whole difficulty was simply this; that desserts 
are not supposed to be served on flat plates. 

They should be served in a dessert bowl, a 
bowl or dish a trifle smaller in circumference 
than a saucer. Such a dish, of course, has a 
smaller bottom, and looks as if it contained more 
than it really does. This is a good psychological 
point to be observed where so many small por- 
tions are served. Another thing, one spoonful 
of juice is much easier managed in a deeper bowl 
than on a flat plate. 

Now I take it, of course, that the reason 
your subjects serve desserts in a plate, is that the 
same is done in Buckingham palace. The rea- 
son it is done there now, is that it was done that 
way in the past. Since they did it that way 
in the days of James I, or Queen Elizabeth, or 
perchance George III, who so greatly provoked 
Patrick Henry, George Washington and other 
patriotic Americans, of course, your cooks and 
butlers are still staying in the same old rut. 

My point is that there have been some pro- 
gressive ideas in table service since then, and you 
ought to know about them. If you would take a 
stroll down to the department store some day 
you might run across a dozen, marked up for the 
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FROM BOMBAY TO BELGRADE 

spring opening. At any rate you should know 
that there is such a thing as a dessert bowl, 
which is better in every way than the big flat 
plate. Please have them inaugurated in the 
British Empire. 

Another thing. Your English cooks make 
coffee that is an abomination. I have tasted your 
poor coffee from Vancouver to Port Said, and it, 
as nearly everything else in the Empire is 
standardized. The process has made it forever 
impossible to get a good cup of coffee under the 
Union Jack. 

Permit me to give you a simple recipe, which 
you may pass on to your good wife, the Queen. 
Get a percolator, a good one may be had for 
$3.98, or a better one for $5.98. Put the water in 
the tea kettle until it is boiling. Put three large 
heaping tablespoons of coffee in the seivelike 
affair called the container. 

Excuse me. I should have told you a little 
more about the percolator. It is made of alumi- 
num, very light and handy. Inside, there is a 
little affair with a seive like cup at the top. 
It has one long leg. This leg is hollow like a 
pipe stem and has a little base to it, which is 
curved up and in so that when the water boils, it 
goes up through this pipe stem leg and sprays 
down on the coffee in the container and drips 
through. 

Having put your coffee in the container, and 
having your water boiling hot in the tea kettle, 
remove the kettle from the gas stove and put the 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

percolator on instead. Then pour your boiling 
hot water slowly down through the coffee, and it 
will drain into the space below. You will, of 
course, being a close observer, note the coffee 
foaming as you pour the water down through. 
That indicates that the water is doing business 
with the coffee. After you have filled it up, leave 
it on the gas for a very few moments, and you 
will note that the water as it boils, shoots up 
through the tube, and is visible through a little 
glass top. When that happens the deed is done, 
and your coffee is ready to serve. 

The Queen of course should have everything 
ready, sugar, cups — not those little dinky cups 
that hold about two spoonfuls, but real coffee 
cups, and a pitcher of good Jersey cream. Put in 
a spoonful or two of cream and sugar, pour 
your coffee steaming hot, and lo, you have 
the finest drink imaginable. You have never 
tasted anything that can equal it. I take it that 
you will of course use some good brand of coffee 
that has been ground not later than last 
Thursday, so it will still have the punch left in it. 

Still another thing. Your people throughout 
the earth serve such old cheese. Cheese every 
day, but cheese that was cut last week, always 
last week. I never yet have seen one that was cut 
today, or even yesterday or the day before. Why 
do they have to cut it last week? Is it because 
the King's butler did it that way two hundred or 
a thousand years ago? Please send an order out 
through the Prime Minister, or the Committee on 

[192] 



; : lh-:v v ;: ; & 



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FROM BOMBAY TO BELGRADE 

International Relations saying that all cheese 
served under the British flag shall not be carved 
not later than the day before yesterday. 

While I am on the subject of cheese, would 
you mind also considering a reform on the place 
in the meal when cheese should be served. As it 
now is, after we have eaten a dessert on a flat 
plate, the last week's cheese, and lukewarm coffee 
are served, so that one always closes the meal 
with a cheesy taste in the mouth. Now if you 
could have the cheese course pushed up a little, 
and let us have the iced pear last, even though it 
is small, it would wind up the meal with a much 
better taste. 

You will wonder why I should bother you 
with these trifles. It is because they are not tri- 
fles, but paramount issues. And you are the one 
to introduce these much needed and much belated 
reforms. If anyone else tries them he will fail, 
for it will be said that it is not done so at the 
palace. On the other hand if your butler and 
your chefs introduce these reforms, and you 
can bring in the society editors to take note of 
them, it will get out to Lloyd George before 
night, or rather Lloyd's wife and she will tell 
Mrs. Winston Churchill and she in turn will 
phone Margat Asquith and Lady Northcliffe, and 
the Viceroys or Governor of Canada, India, South 
Africa, and Australia will hear it, and before 
you know how it was done, the whole of the 
British Empire will be eating fresh cheese, eat- 
ing dessert out of the proper kind of dishes, and 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

drinking really good hot coffee. And those who 
travel on British ships will rise up and call you 
blessed. 

Thus you will have a good natured traveling 
public, which will go far toward cementing world 
brotherhood and ushering in the belated program 
of the League of Nations. Don't wait for any 
one else to start these reforms, but do it yourself, 
and at once, and future historians will record 
that you were a man of original mind, and that 
you looked after any necessary details of govern- 
ment for the good of the rank and file. 

These suggestions are made free of charge, 
and I hope you will not consider me presump- 
tious for sending them in. If I had time while in 
England I might run over and teach the Queen 
how to make the coffee, but I will be busy with 
other matters. 

I have the honor to be, 
Sir 
Your most obedient servant, 
Dad Wilson. 

A TIGER STORY AT SEA 

April 15. 
My Dearest All: 

Now that I am two days out at sea and per- 
fectly safe and you have received my cable say- 
ing I am on the way, you will not be frightened 
if I tell you my adventures with a tiger. Mother 
wrote that she dreamed I got hurt in the jungle. 
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FROM BOMBAY TO BELGRADE 

I was afraid to tell you this story while still in 
India, for fear you would worry. 

You remember the last letter I wrote about 
my hunting trip with Benlehrs. I told you 
we saw two panthers on our way in Saturday 
night. Well, I was awakened that night about 
one o'clock by several men talking excitedly out 
on the veranda. I could now and then catch the 
Hindi word "tenda" which means tiger. Once I 
heard Ben's voice asking them very carefully 
about what they had "dekkod" which means 
seen. 

Presently Ben came into my room with voice 
vibrating with excitement. He said that these 
men had come in about four miles; that a big 
tiger had attacked a man with two bullocks and 
killed one of them. When the man tried to beat 
off the animal with his long club, as these foolish 
Indian men sometimes do, it had turned upon 
him, and with one stroke of its great paw had 
knocked him down, then mauled him, and he 
would probably die. 

The man's son, a lad about fourteen, had run 
back to the village, given the alarm, and when a 
crowd of men arrived, shouting and threatening, 
the tiger had made off into the jungle. They said 
he would surely be back in two or three hours, 
and begged us to go out and, when he returned, 
kill him. The moon would be up by the time we 
got there, which would give us a good chance. 
Ben wanted to know if I was willing to risk it, 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

but by the time he had his story told I was 
dressed. 

I loaded up the big rifle which had done me 
such good service, and was out on the veranda 
ready to go, about one thirty in the morning. It 
seemed best to go in their bullock cart, so we 
piled in, the driver twisted the oxen's tails and 
we were off. The men, five or six of them, ran 
along by the side of the cart as it moved along at 
a dog trot. Now and then they would poke up 
the oxen from the side, chattering to each other 
like a band of monkeys as we went along. 

In the meantime Ben and I planned our 
campaign on the tiger. We decided that if 
there were any good trees near by, it would be 
safest to get in them, if it would give us a clear 
shot. But if not, then to get behind some trees 
or bushes where we would be sure and get a fatal 
shot into his body. We crossed up over a high 
hill road on an out-of-the-way road through the 
jungle, and came down about two-thirds of the 
way on the other side into a valley. Here we 
found the body of the bullock. From all indica- 
tions the tiger had not been back since the men 
drove him away. 

The moon had just lifted itself above the 
eastern hills, and we could see the long shadows 
of the trees. Right by the bullock was one large 
tree with a long overhanging limb. About thirty 
feet away was another tree, large enough for a 
good shelter. Ben told me to get in the nearby 
one, and he climbed in the other. The others went 
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FROM BOMBAY TO BELGRADE 

off a half mile up the road to come at a signal 
from us. Usually when they hunt tigers in this 
way, they tie one of the small native rope beds in 
the trees, which makes a safe easy place to sit 
and the hunter can lean from one side to the 
other to shoot. But we had no time for that, so 
I was compelled to sit in the crotch of the tree 
about twelve feet from the ground. 

We had decided that we would not shoot 
until he was close, no matter what happened, for 
to do otherwise would only wound him. Tigers 
are very dangerous when wounded. Well, we 
were all ready and the watch began. The night 
owls were hooting. The time was now past two 
thirty. The moon was getting brighter. Every 
long shadow of bush and tree seemed to have a 
tiger lurking in it. Every time a bird flew past, 
or a leaf rustled, it seemed that two or three 
tigers were coming out. 

My eyes and ears and senses seemed to be 
getting every movement of any kind. There 
seemed to be a sort of sixth sense that reached 
out into the jungle to feel if any danger was 
approaching. It must have been a half hour and 
we had not made a sound of any kind, when I saw 
down the road a big shadow cross over and go 
into the jungle. Then a rabbit ran out of the jun- 
gle from that side back to the other. In about two 
minutes I sensed something near my tree, but 
could not see it. Finally I felt it come nearer and 
soon a huge tiger came out of the shadows in the 
trees and stood some forty feet away, looking up 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

and down the road as if he wanted to make sure 
that nobody was near. 

He was not near enough to shoot, and I was 
quite sure Ben would not shoot. He stood there, 
a kingly looking fellow in the clear moonlight, as 
if daring any man or beast to dispute his right 
to the meal he was about to partake. It seemed 
ages while he stood there. What if he should 
look up in the tree and see me, and decide to 
take a little man steak instead of bullock steak? 
He could easily jump and knock me out if 
he got at me from the right angle. All these 
things went through my mind, but at the same 
time I had my hand on the trigger, if he should 
attempt anything like that. 

Finally he seemed to have satisfied himself 
that everything was all right, so he started to 
walk leisurely toward the bullock and of course 
that meant toward me. He passed Ben's tree 
about twenty feet away and as he came on, I 
was conscious of the Indian man in my tree mak- 
ing some slight noise as if he moved his toe 
against the bark. Instantly the old tiger threw 
up his head and listened, turning his head in 
every direction. I knew then what Ben would 
think: That if the animal got frightened he 
would run away and we would not even get a 
shot, and he would not return that night. 

This had no sooner gone through my mind, 
than bang! went Ben's big gun. My eyes were on 
the tiger and I saw him give a long sideways 
jump and he landed directly under me and 

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FROM BOMBAY TO BELGRADE 

stopped. I leaned over hastily to see if he had 
dropped, or had been hit, and as I did so one of 
my feet slipped and as I caught myself I dropped 
my gun. As I lurched after it, I lost my balance 
and fell. All this was done in less time than I 
can tell it, and I landed squarely on the tiger's 
back. I was so frightened that the only thing I 
could think of was to hold tight. To my great sur- 
prise I was just back of his shoulders with my 
face forward and my arms around his neck. I 
clutched, unconsciously, the long hair on his 
neck, and gripped my legs about his body. I 
thought that in an instant he would roll over and 
get me off and maul me with his great paws, but 
I determined that I would stick on as long as 
possible, for as long as I stuck on he could not 
hurt me. He started to run through the jungle. 
He seemed to be as frightened as I was. He went 
in great swinging strides, and didn't seem to be 
trying to get me off. It seemed that I heard Ben 
call to stick on tight. Anyway, I did not have time 
to think of anything else, so I simply held on for 
dear life, scared so stiff that I could not have let 
go if I had wanted to. 

On and on he went, and then I began to get 
back my presence of mind. I figured that if I let 
loose and fell off he would turn around and kill 
me. That if I stayed on very long he would cer- 
tainly lie down and get me off and kill me also. 
Then I remembered that men when they get lost 
in the forest often go in a circle and that possibly 
he would run around the big valley, and come 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

back to where Ben was, and he would shoot him, 
although I did not fancy him shooting while I 
was on the tiger's back. 

Finally I noticed that he was limping 
slightly in one leg, and I knew then that Ben 
had bit him only very slightly. This frightened 
me more, for I knew that when he started in on 
me, he would be angry and make quick 
work of it. My face was scratched by the limbs 
and thorns, my hands were bleeding, and the top 
of my head was bumped about every ten feet, it 
seemed, as he made his way through the bushes. 
He was making for the big reservoir which the 
Government had recently finished. It was still 
about a half mile away, and I could hear him 
panting as he sped along in his swinging gallop. 
I remembered that the top of the hill was 
cut down steep, that from the top a path led down 
to the water's edge, whereas, if he went straight 
over the top, it was some thirty or forty 
feet down to the water. Would he slow up, to go 
down that winding path? If so, he would get me 
off. He went straight ahead, and as we came 
within a few feet, he gave a terrible growl, and 
with one mad blind leap he plunged from the 
very brow of the hill into the cold dark water be- 
low. It seemed like eternity before we struck the 
water. The whole panorama of my life seemed 
to pass like a moving picture before me. I saw 
mamma as a little girl out on the Nebraska farm. 
I saw the old Hoosier Valley school house, and 
the Baptist church, and I saw the Platte river, 
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FROM BOMBAY TO BELGRADE 

and the ball games, the high school, and where I 
taught school. My old bicycle came back to me 
again, and I saw myself get married, and then 
you girls all came trooping along before my eyes 
during those few seconds before we reached the 
water. 

I don't understand how so much could pass 
through a man's mind in so short a time. But 
finally the splash came, and as he went under I 
turned loose. I stayed on top of the water, 
turned, and struck out for the shore. I saw the 
tiger's head come up out of the water thirty feet 
away. I renewed my strokes with increased 
energy, but just as I reached the shore, there lay 
a great crocodile on the bank, with his head at 
the water's edge. He opened his huge jaws, made 

a plunge at me, and J woke up, and found 

myself sitting up in bed with cold sweat oozing 
out all over my body. 

Monday, 19. 

It has been a very calm sea all the way. 
Tomorrow we pass into the southern end of the 
Red sea. Later we will see the place where 
Moses and the Israelites crossed. I know they 
were no happier to cross it than I will be. 

Now children, sit up straight in your seats 
and we will have our geography lesson. 

Where did this boat, the Konigin Luise sail 
from? 

From Bombay. 

Is Bombay on the main land of India? 

No, it is on the island of Bombay. 

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What body of water does the boat pass 
through on leaving Bombay? 

Through the Arabian sea, which is in the 
northern part of the Indian ocean. 

What water does it reach next? 

The gulf of Aden. 

And what next? 

The Red Sea. 

What city is near the point where the boat 
passes out of the gulf Aden? 

The city of Aden, owned by the British, also 
on an island. 

Saturday, 24. 

Today we entered the Gulf of Suez. Some- 
time tomorrow we arrive at the city of Suez 
where the mail is taken off and goes by train to 
Port Said then on to Europe by fast boat and 
train so it will get there quicker. 

This morning we were just about two blocks 
ahead of an American freight boat. It got 
even with us about noon, and then passed us a 
few yards, and we were about even at sundown. 
It was a nice race. 

It is getting cooler as we get farther north. 
But I guess there is no danger of freezing. 

Good bye from the Red Sea, Suez canal, 
Suez gulf, and the waters of Asia. I have already 
seen the coast of Africa several times. Next will 
be from Europe. Next after that good old 
U. S. A. 

Yours hurrying as fast as possible, 

Daddy Bert. 

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FROM BOMBAY TO BELGRADE 

Port Said, 
Monday, April 26. 
My Dearest Lenore: 

I am sending you some more stamps. Some 
of these I bought in Bombay, and the others 
in Port Said. If there are duplicates, you can 
share with some of your friends who are 
making collections. There are some German 
African stamps, but they are no longer used, as 
Germany is out of Africa forever. You can keep 
them as a reminder of the Kaiser's departed 
glory. 

We arrived at Suez Sunday evening. Not 
far from Suez are the famous wells of Moses. It 
is a flat sandy country, with some barren humble 
hills stretching away in the distance as if they 
were ashamed of themselves for being in such an 
historic place, unable to grow grass and ever- 
green trees. 

The trip through the canal was very in- 
teresting. On both sides are wide stretches of 
sandy land, some low marshy land, but without 
shrubbery. There are some broad lakes, shallow 
and flat. 

Port Said is certainly a picturesque city. 
It is right at the water's edge, the canal along 
one side, and the Mediterranean on the other. 
The breeze off the Mediterranean is nice and cool. 
As usual there was considerable red tape in get- 
ting off the boat, and to my hotel, The Eastern 
Exchange. Sounds quite formal doesn't it? But 
it is really very good, clean bed, clean floor and 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

rug, clean food, good cold water, four meals a 
day, and all for one English pound, which is 
about $3.85. Cheaper than I could get the same 
in America. 

One chap came on board and visaed my pass- 
port, another looked at it as I went down the 
gangway, another checked it up at the custom's 
house, and when I went up to see Major Beau- 
mont to get permission to go to Jerusalem, I had 
to produce it again. I faced the Major in his den, 
and he said he would have to write Cairo. I told 
him I could go to Jerusalem and back, while he 
was getting an answer. He said if I was in a 
hurry, he would telephone, but I would have to 
pay for it. He did, and I did, so I have it all 
fixed to leave here tomorrow night on the British 
military train for the ancient city of the Jew. 

These Egyptians are a hardy looking race. 
They are not so brown as the Indians. The color 
seems to get a milder brown the farther north 
you go. They also dress differently from the 
Indians. 

This is a sort of cross roads of the world. All 
the ships that come and go, of all the lines, stop 
here. Boats of nearly every nation are in the 
harbor now. We came up the canal yesterday 
and last night with a whole string of them, 
ahead of us and behind. 

So this is Egypt. Here came the sons of 

Jacob more than three thousand years ago from 

the land of Canaan. Of course they did not come 

on the British military train, but I must ask the 

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FROM BOMBAY TO BELGRADE 

hotel clerk if they put up at the Eastern Ex- 
change as they passed through. Jerusalem next. 

Jerusalem, May 3, 1920. 
Girls: 

I have been here four days, and this is the 
very first opportunity I have had to write a word. 

The route to Jerusalem is over the British 
line of march along which they drove back the 
Turks, and finally captured Jerusalem. It is over 
the sandiest, most barren desert for the first three 
or four hours. Then we came to a large body of 
clear blue water, and imagine my surprise to 
know it was the Mediterranean. The town is 
El Arish and the country is desert in every direc- 
tion. It is a military camp. We veered off in- 
land again and came to better country where 
there were wheat, gardens and orchards. About 
noon we came to ancient Gaza, about five miles 
from the sea, the ancient city of the Philistines. 
It was here that Samson pulled down the pillars, 
and destroyed his enemies. 

As the train stopped a lot of Gaza boys and 
girls ran along-side the train with boiled eggs, 
and oranges for sale. They would not give them 
into the hands of the soldiers until they got the 
money into their hands. To our right two or 
three miles we could see Gerar, where Abraham 
and Isaac bargained with the Philistine chiefs, 
and dug wells. Off to the right a little farther 
we passed Ziklag, Lachish, and Gath, the home 
of Goliath. 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

Then we came to Gezer. There is some in- 
teresting history concerning Joshua and Solo- 
mon in connection with this town. We had to 
change cars at Lydda, for Jerusalem. Lydda you 
remember is where Peter raised Dorcas to life. 
Acts 9. There is a military camp here and on 
the hillside I saw a British aeroplane getting 
ready for a flight. On our way to Jerusalem we 
passed through Beth Shemesh. Not far to the 
north was Aijalon, and Upper and Lower Beth- 
oron. The road runs between great rocky hills 
or mountains, and in one of these valleys a great 
battle was fought between the British and the 
Turks. 

We arrived at Jerusalem six thirty in the 
evening. Imagine it, all the way from Egypt to 
Jerusalem in one day, and a daylight run at that. 

And it came to pass when our train arrived 
at Jerusalem a man got on the train and said 
unto me : 

"Dost thou desire to go to the Grand New 
Hotel?" 

I said unto him, "I do." 

He said unto me "Behold, I will find for thee 
a carriage." 

When we had passed through the multitude 
and I was seated upon the carriage lo, this same 
man climbed upon the seat beside me. And as 
we passed through the valley of Hinnom he said 
unto me: 

"Is this thy first trip to Jerusalem?" 

I said unto him, "It is." 
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FROM BOMBAY TO BELGRADE 

As we passed the mountain called Zion, lie 
said unto me, 

"Wilt thou stay long in Jerusalem?" 

I said unto him, "May be so and may be not." 

Thereupon there fell upon him a great 
silence for he seemed much perplexed at my 
short answers. For I had perceived that he had 
some scheme up his sleeve. As we approached 
the Jaffa gate, which stands in the walls of the 
city from whence men go to Joppa, he said unto 
me, 

"Visitest thou the holy places of the city?" 

I said unto him, "I do." 

Then he said boldly unto me, "I am a guide, 
and I would fain show you the places of the 
city." 

I said unto him, "How much chargest thou?" 

And he said unto me with a Shylock accent 
in his voice, "For myself and carriage ana tips?" 

Then I perceived in my heart that he had in 
his mind that I was a man whose pocket bulgeth 
large. So I said unto him, 

"I will see thee tomorrow." 

And lo, when we had arrived at the Grand 
New Hotel, there was a company of employees 
arrayed upon my right hand and my left, which 
seemed to indicate that they were saying in their 
hearts, 

"Lo, this man also is an easy mark. Come 
let us skin him if we get a chance." And it came 
to pass when I had written my name, my age, 
my nationality, my business, and from whence 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

I had come, upon the hotel register, that this 
selfsame guide helped carry my baggage up to 
my room. And when he had lighted the candle, 
and handed me his card he said unto me with a 
longing voice, 

"Wilt thou settle the matter tonight?" 

And I said unto him wearily, "Not tonight." 

When I had eaten a good meal of exceeding 
savory viands, I lay myself down and slept and 
dreamed in the ancient city. And when I rose 
up early in the morning and came down to break- 
fast the guide greeted me with an exceedingly 
friendly smile. 

"Wilt thou have me today?" 

I said unto him, "I have not yet decided." 

When I had eaten four fried eggs and drunk 
me two large cups of exceedingly good coffee, 1 
hied me over to Thos. Cook's office who giveth 
help and advice to travelers. I said unto the 
clerk : 

"Dost thou furnish guides, and for how 
much?" 

When he answered me I perceived that my 
friend of the hotel had planned secretly in his 
heart that he would gouge me. 

I hied me out into the street, and lo, the 
guide was waiting for me. I said unto him, "How 
much chargest thou for thyself and tips for one 
day?" 

He said so much. Then said I unto him, 
looking him straight in the eye, "Thy price 
is not the right price, but I will give thee so 

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FROM BOMBAY TO BELGRADE 



much for one day, and if thou art a good guide 
and doest all that thou sayest thou wilt do, then 
I may call upon thee for two days." 

When he perceived that I was a man of 
understanding concerning the price he said, "I 
will do as thou sayest." 

And it came to pass that we walked through 
the streets of the Holy city until we came to the 
Church of the Holy Sepulchre. Men call it after 
this fashion because it is built on the place where 
the sepulchre of Jesus was supposed to be. It is 
an exceeding large church and built out of great 
stones, the same kind of stones of which all 
Jerusalem is built. Standing at the gate were 
two British soldiers, and a Mohammedan door- 
keeper who locketh and unlocketh the door every 
day. And I said unto the guide, "Why dost the 
Moslem defile the place with his presence?" 

Then he said unto me, "In the years gone by 
there arose a great dispute between five sects as 
to whom the church did belong. There were the 
Franciscans, the Greeks, the Armenians, the 
Copts, and the Syrians. These all did claim the 
right to the church, so that at last, since these 
Christians did eat and devour one another, it was 
appointed that each was to have the rights to 
such and such a place in the church, and it came 
to pass that they agreed not to tresspass each 
upon the rights of the others. But when they 
could not agree as to who should have the keys 
lest that sect should some day claim the whole 
thing, the Turks who at that time ruled the land 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

decided that a Moslem should have the keys of 
the church." 

Thus do the quarreling followers of Jesus 
make themselves a hiss and a byword to all who 
come, even from the ends of the earth to look 
upon the holy places. 

And I went in and saw the ancient tomb of 
Jesus hewn out of a great rock. For the rock 
still standeth within the church even unto this 
day. And the guide said unto me, "Wilt thou not 
stoop down and enter the tomb, even as the dis- 
ciples of old did?" 

And I stooped down and entered in. And 
within were all manner of candles burning. 
There was a large marble rock, and underneath 
this rock is the very rock upon which Jesus was 
laid. And standing at the head of the rock 
there was a Greek priest. And he was arrayed 
in a long robe, as is the manner of the Greek 
priests. And he did wear long black whiskers, 
as is also the manner of the priests of Jerusalem. 
As he stood there with a Greek Bible in his hand, 
he made to appear to all passersby that he was 
an holy man and just. 

But my eyes did behold by his left side a 
small tin cup sitting on the very tomb of Jesus. 
And in this cup I beheld money arranged 
in such a way that all might see. And this he 
did that all who come might take the hint. Then 
I perceived that they had made the tomb of Jesus 
a place for the money changer, and the religious 

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FROM BOMBAY TO BELGRADE 

beggar. So I said in my heart, not outwardly so 
men could hear: 

"Why defilest thou the sepulchre, with thy 
long whiskers and thy lazy life?" 

For this he was wont to do six days of the 
week, yea even seven, since this part of the great 
church is alloted to the Greeks. But I beheld also 
that as we went out my guide failed to put any 
piasters into the cup. 

Then we came to another large stone upon 
which Jesus was laid when he was taken down 
from the cross, which is now called the Stone of 
Unction. And I beheld here also many candles 
burning. And near by was the Place of the Cross, 
and my eyes beheld the place where the cross 
was placed within the rock, and on either side 
the places of the other two crosses. And at the 
place of the cross there was an altar, and on the 
altar was incense and burning candles. This is 
in an upper room, carved out of the solid rock, 
and I saw a great rock that was cleft in twain. 

And near this place he showed unto me 
Mary's chapel, in memory of Mary the mother of 
Jesus. And in this chapel is an altar with golden 
candle sticks and there is a very life size image 
of Mary, very costly, all decorated with gold and 
silver and precious stones. And the image and 
all its trimmings are exceeding valuable, yea 
even unto a sum of a half million dollars. When 
the Turks were about to lose the city to the 
British, one of them looked upon the image with 
envy in his heart and said unto his fellows: 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

"See, here is much fine gold, let us now take 
it, and convert it into cash, and thus help our- 
selves and bring sorrow to the hearts of these 
Christians." 

But the Austrian officer forbade them say- 
ing: 

"Touch not the holy thing, for we be fight- 
ing a nation not a religion." Whereupon the 
Turks laid not their hands upon the image. 

And as I walked about and looked in the 
great church, I beheld many other small chapels, 
one at the place of finding the cross, called "the 
Chapel of Finding of the Holy Cross." And 
another called the "Chapel of the Apparition," 
where Jesus, or was it the angel appeared? And 
it was whispered abroad that the various sects 
worship in the various chapels within the great 
church, since they cannot have harmony among 
themselves. 

And as I looked out of the tail of my eye as 
we went from place to place, I beheld that my 
guide failed to give the tips, and the people 
thinking that I should have given them, and did 
not, looked upon me as a tight wad, whereas my 
guide should have given them as the agreement 
was. So when high noon had come, and I had 
taken bread, 1 said unto the guide innocent like: 

"Perchance the people would like to receive 
the tips out of my very hands." Then did his 
countenance fall, for he perceived that I trusted 
him not, and that the hope of his gain was gone. 
When we had come to the hotel at night, and I 
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FROM BOMBAY TO BELGRADE 

was reading in the parlor, the guide came unto 
me and said, "Sir, the driver of your carriage 
from the station standeth without the door 
wanting his tribute money." 

I said unto him, "The hotel man payest him 
not?" 

He replied that in olden times it was so but 
in these days each man payeth the tribute money 
direct to the driver, and that if I would 
hand him the money he would deliver it into the 
hands of the driver and I need not go down. I 
said unto him, "How much owest I this Jehu?" 

He replied, "Twenty piasters," which is four 
shillings. 

I said unto him, "Thou speakest not the 
right price unto me. May my right hand forget 
her cunning, and my tongue cleave to the roof 
of my mouth, if I pay thee too large a sum, and 
thou keepest a part of it for thyself." And he 
quickly left me and departed. So I went straight- 
way to the hotel man said unto him : 

"Shew me the military tariff sheet which 
sheweth what drivers are allowed for their hire." 
When he shewed it unto me I saw that the price 
was two shillings instead of four. So I gave 
him two shillings and said unto him, "Give the 
driver his proper tribute money, and as for this 
guide, if you allow him to bother me any more, 
I will pay you what I owe, and move to another 
hotel." 

Whereupon that guide has not shewed me 
his face even unto this day. 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

Well, enough, of this, I am leaving early 
tomorrow morning. I went to mount Moriah, 
where Abraham offered up Isaac. It is, you may 
remember, the spot in Jerusalem where Solo- 
mon afterwards built the temple. According to 
the prophecy of Jesus there would not be left one 
stone upon another. This came to pass in 70 
A. D. under Titus who destroyed the city and 
temple. And when the Mohammedans took 
Jerusalem in the sixth century they built a Mo- 
hammedan mosque on the very spot of the tem- 
ple. It still stands there. 

I will have to tell you the rest of what I saw 
later. Bethlehem, Bethany, Mount of Olives, 
Jericho, Dead Sea, Jordan River, etc. It has 
been a wonderful experience. 

Now for the first boat. 

B. W. 

P. S. I picked a violet in the garden of 
Gethsemane. These leaves I picked on the banks 
of the Jordan. 

Port Said again, May 6. 
Dearest All: 

I left off by telling you that I fired my guile- 
ful guide. To my great surprise and joy, I found 
an American chap helping out the British Y. M. 
C. A., and he was starting that very day for Beth- 
lehem, Bethany, and the Mt. of Olives. He had a 
British captain and an Irish Lieutenant and I 
made the third of the party. We went to Bethle- 
hem in an old Ford car, with its hood gone, its 
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FROM BOMBAY TO BELGRADE 

top gone, in fact nearly everything gone except 
its "chassis," and its reputation. It has a great 
reputation for it was captured three times in the 
recent war; British from Turks, back to Turks, 
back to British again. 

On the way to Bethlehem, we stopped at a 
large rock on the top of a mountain. In this 
rock is a groove about the size of a man. They 
call it Elijah's rock, for tradition has it that the 
great prophet rested there when he was fleeing 
away from Ahab on his southern journey. A 
little farther on is Rachel's tomb, and it seems 
pretty well established that that is really authen- 
tic. It is a mile to the north of Bethlehem, quite 
a large rock house, or tomb encloses it. 

The place of interest in Bethlehem, of 
course, is the birth place of Jesus. As in Jerusa- 
lem, so here they have erected a large church 
over the very spot. It is called the "Church of 
the Nativity." It is also Armenian, Catholic, 
Greek, if not more, and they also are a quarrel- 
ing bunch. The Armenians have one side, the 
Greeks the center I think it is, and the Romans 
the right side, and in each place there is an altar 
arranged for worship. There is a story told about 
General Allenby, the British General who cap- 
tured Jerusalem. He came to Bethlehem, and 
saw all the windows nice and clean but one. On 
inquiry he found that it was at the dividing line 
between the Armenians and the Greeks. So 
neither was allowed to clean the window, lest 
they go over their line and finally claim the 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

whole window. So Allenby called a representa- 
tive of each group to him, and told them that he 
could not understand such bitterness, and lack 
of co-operation, and that if neither was willing 
for the other to clean the window, they might 
well hire a Mohammedan Arab to do it. He told 
them he was coming out again the next after- 
noon, and that if the window was not clean, he 
and his orderly would do it themselves. The 
next day it was cleaned, and has been cleaned 
ever since. Not so bad, was it? 

But you are more interested in the thing the 
church stands for. Well, down some long, old 
worn stone steps, there is an altar underneath 
the main part of the church. It is made in the 
old original rock; there they have marked the 
spot where Jesus was born. On the very spot, 
there is a large gold star, representing the star 
which the wise men followed. Over this star 
the candles were burning, and while we looked, 
an old long whiskered priest with a black mother 
hubbard dress on, came down, waved a lamp of 
incense in front of the altar several times, filling 
the place with a sweet fragrance. 

You perhaps know that when one nation 
takes possession of another country it agrees to 
regard and protect the holy places. This Turkey 
agreed to do, when it took over Palestine. Well, 
one day a Turkish soldier who was guarding this 
place thought he would make a little money on 
the side, so he removed one of the golden spikes 
which holds down the golden star. A Greek 
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FROM BOMBAY TO BELGRADE 

priest discovered it, reported it to the Russian 
Ambassador, who reported to his Government, 
which in turn sent an ultimatum to Turkey that 
unless the spike was returned, and the Turkish 
government formally apologized in twenty four 
hours, war would be declared. The apology was 
not sent, and the Crimean War was fought 
between those two lands, all over a gold spike! 

A few feet away is another large indenture 
in the rock, which was the manger. Here also 
was another altar with incense and candles. Still 
farther down below, another rock stairway runs 
to a place where they say a lot of children and 
their mothers hid, when Herod's order went out 
for the children to be killed. They say that a 
large number of innocent children were here 
found and slaughtered at Herod's command. 
There are also a number of old tombs down in 
this deep dark cavern, one as I remember it, the 
tomb of the mother of Constantine, who had the 
first church erected on this spot. The whole 
church is in the shape of a very large cross, and 
in exact proportions. 

We went out to Bethany which is east of 
Jerusalem across the brook Kedron. The old 
part is nearly gone, but the house of Mary and 
Martha was pointed out to us. A half dozen 
boys and girls ran before us and cried out: 
"Want to see the house Mary and Martha, Laza- 
rus tomb?" One of them got a key and unlocked 
the door to a wall, and we entered an open court. 
There was a very old foundation, and part of a 

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basement. This is the ruins of what was once 
another church, said to have been erected on the 
spot where stood the house of Mary and Martha. 

A few yards away, were two large piles of 
stone, all that remains of the house of Simon the 
Leper. Jesus once went home with him, you 
remember. Then a short distance away is the 
tomb of Lazarus. It is down underneath the hill 
or mountain, in solid rock nearly all the way. 
There are forty-three steps down. Count the stair 
steps at home, and you can estimate how deep 
down that is. In the floor, there is a large open- 
ing in the rock, and the Irish Lieut, and I took 
our candles and crawled in and back until we 
came to an open room, say eight feet square, 
hewn out of the solid rock. This was the tomb. 
I held the candle while the Lieutenant read 
from the New Testament, Book of John, about 
the raising of Lazarus. 

A mile from Bethany is Bethpage. On 
the way back we went up on the Mt. of Olives, a 
trifle higher than Jerusalem. One gets a won- 
derful view of Jerusalem from this mountain. 
It was from here that Jesus is supposed 
to have ascended. They show a rock with a 
little iron fence around it, from which he 
ascended. This rock is right in front of a 
church, I think it is a Russian church. It is 
called the "Church of the Ascension." And 
some fifty yards away, the Mohammedans, not to 
be outdone, have erected a mosque, and within 
it on the floor, they have a rock; and in it, a 

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FROM BOMBAY TO BELGRADE 

place that resembles a foot print, and this is 
claimed to be the correct place of the ascension. 
Whichever it was does not concern me; it was 
somewhere from this hill. Upon this hill many 
a time He walked and talked with His disciples. 
That is the big point. 

About two thirds of the way down this 
mountain on the way back to Jerusalem is the 
garden of Gethsemane. Great rocks are pointed 
out, as the place where the disciples slept while 
Jesus prayed. And the spot of the betrayal is 
marked. A great olive tree, gnarled, knotty and 
half dead, fifteen or eighteen feet in circum- 
ference, is said to be the "tree of agony." I sent 
you a pansy I picked there, also a leaf. 

I also went to the pool at Bethesda; nearby 
was another church, and a priest with a hat on 
like the Vicar of Wakefield wore. And not far 
away, the church of St. Anne, if I remember 
rightly; anyway, it is in honor of the parents of 
Mary. And down underneath and back of the 
pulpit are several rooms hewn out of rock, said 
to be their ancient home, and therefore the an- 
cient home of Mary also. 

We went to Gihon, which is the spring 
Gihon, coming out of the rocks. This is outside 
the walls of Jerusalem on the temple side. There 
is an underground passage from this spring, 
which leads to the pool of Siloam. It was built 
either by Solomon or Hezekiah, I have forgotten 
which. We went down three or four blocks, pass- 
ing Absalom's tomb on the way, and came to the 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

pool of Siloam. We passed down about fifteen 
rock steps to get to it. It is a shallow place, the 
clear cold water coming out from under the 
rocks from the upper Gihon. 

I was very anxious to go down to Jericho, 
but the old Ford car was not going down there. 
The livery men wanted twenty dollars to drive 
down and back, which was too much. You see I 
was like the man in the Bible who went down 
to Jericho and fell among thieves. The only 
difference was that I fell among thieves before I 
started, so finally I decided to walk down. I got 
up early, and was on the road at a quarter of 
eight. At 8 : 05 I passed the garden of Gethsem- 
ane. At 8.35 Bethpage, and at 8:50 I passed 
through Bethany. A small boy came out, want- 
ing to show me around, and when I told him I 
was going to Jericho, he pointed at my feet and 
his eyes opened in astonishment. It is down hill 
all the way, in between great mountains, all 
rocky, like they are in Jerusalem. The road winds 
in and out among the hills, and down at a gentle 
slope, but always down, down, down. You ask 
how I knew the way? I didn't exactly. Yet I 
knew that I could not very well miss the way. So 
I went on, and on, thinking I would arrive by 
noon, as it was only about twelve miles. There 
were no villages on the way, one lone house, two 
or three miles below Bethany. Now and then I 
would see far up the mountain side, a lone Arab 
shepherd with his flock of sheep. I met two or 
three flocks of sheep, that were being taken up 
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FROM BOMBAY TO BELGRADE 



to Jerusalem to market. About twelve o'clock 
the road sloped up a small hill, and I thought 
surely when I got on that, I could see the plains 
of Jericho. 

But on reaching there, I found a stone 
house, which composes a village, called "Good 
Samaritan Inn." The village has four inhabi- 
tants; a man, a girl about like Roma, a dog, and 
a rooster. They keep a few things for sale. I 
bought a bottle of lemon soda, and two Jericho 
cucumbers. They had a tasty taste to me, as the 
Arab told me that it was the half way house. So 
I hustled on. Down and down I went, wondering 
every now and then if some mountain stone 
dweller had spotted me, and was waiting behind 
a rock somewhere to waylay me. At last, 
through a rift in the mountain, I saw the Dead 
Sea. Later on I stood on the last ridge and 
looked down on ancient Jericho. I heard a roar- 
ing noise to my left, and discovered a stream of 
water in a rock canal, very small, only two or 
three feet wide and no deeper, winding its way 
down the hill, and far in the distance I could see 
down on the plain where it was winding its way 
to Jericho. It crossed the road farther down, and I 
got a cool drink, and plodded on. I arrived at 
the Hotel Bellevue at 2:15, Jericho's only hotel 
for the present, the Hotel Jordan being closed. 
I do not know if the hotel is the descendant of 
the inn in which the good Samaritan took the 
wounded man or not. At any rate, it looked good 
to me, for my feet were sore, and the muscles of 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

my legs were sore, for it was really harder on my 
muscles than if it had been up hill part of the 
way. I was the only guest. But the Arab cook 
soon served a mess of pottage cooked with some 
savory mutton. Did I devour it all? I did, and 
asked for more. Then I went up to my room and 
took a nap. I had walked 22 miles instead of 12. 

J tried to take a nap. But here I met my old 
enemy, the bed bug. He had formed an inter- 
national alliance with the tribe of fleas. And 
that afternoon and night, I fought more fleas, 
and bugs than — well, the soldiers in Prance had 
no greater trouble with the "cooties," I am sure. 
The dogs began barking about twelve, and 
between fleas, dogs, and bugs, I got but very little 
sleep. 

After my attempted afternoon nap, I walked 
out about a mile and a half to Elisha's wonderful 
fountain, where he turned bitter water into 
sweet. It is a wonderful spring, spouting up in 
a perrennial fountain. They have built a large 
stone tank around it and much of the land 
around the town is irrigated from it. They raise 
oranges, lemons, figs, pomegranates, apricots, 
raisins, and all kinds of vegetables. Near this 
fountain are the walls of the old Jericho all tum- 
bled down. There are some excavations showing 
some of the ancient houses. Think of the his- 
tory of this wonderful city, and its surrounding 
country. Prom Joshua to Christ. From Christ 
to the present. And there I was standing on top 
of those ancient walls, nothing but a plain 

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FROM BOMBAY TO BELGRADE 

Nebraska clod hopper. Who am I, that I should 
have this wonderful opportunity to behold the 
wonder, and the beauty, and in some parts, the 
desolation of this land so dear to the hearts of 
judges, and priests, and prophets and kings, and 
apostles, and even Jesus himself! 

To the left towered a high mountain, said 
to be the mount of Temptation. On its very dome 
is a flat stone church, Greek Catholic. Clinging 
to its rocky side, about two thirds of the way up 
is a Greek monastery, where eleven monks live. 
Every Sunday, those eleven monks wend their 
way up the mountain side to the church and have 
a service. You will guess from what I have al- 
ready said that the religion here is an empty for- 
mality. I think it is an empty hollow mockery, 
for there are enough churches to redeem this 
land if they had the real spirit of the early dis- 
ciples. 

I was the only white man in Jericho that 
night. The next morning I hired an Arab horse, 
and a boy for my guide to the Dead Sea and the 
Jordan. It was about five miles to the Jordan. 
It wound in and out at the bottom of a deep 
valley down among the rocks and sand. Near 
the river a few scrubby trees grow; I have sent 
you some leaves. I was at the place where John 
baptized Jesus, and undoubtedly somewhere 
along here is the place where the Israelites 
crossed over. Down the river about three miles 
is the Dead Sea. You know that this body of 
water is 1200 feet below the sea level of the 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

Mediterranean. But it is a wonderfully pictur- 
esque little piece of water. 

A little village of a dozen houses is right at 
the edge of the water. On either side great 
mountain ranges. On the right looking south, 
the hills and mountains that lead up to Jerusa- 
lem, called the "hill country of Judea." Hills 
and mountains and rocks, not a tree in sight any- 
where. To the left side stretches the great Moab 
range. One towering peak that lifts its head a 
little higher than the others is Mt. Nebo where 
Moses was buried. Not far away Mt. Pisgah, 
where he stood and viewed the promised land, 
but was told he was not to enter. 

On the sea there are a few boats, one a steam 
launch with which the British patrol the sea,' as 
there is still talk of trouble with the Bedouin 
Arabs, who resent British authority; in fact, any 
authority which interferes with their accus- 
tomed raids. The day after I left, a band of these 
Bedouins crossed the Jordan above Jericho, took 
38 head of cattle in the night, and escaped with 
them into the hills beyond Jordan. 

I rode the Arab horse back to Jerusalem. I 
had no saddle, but they put a sort of gunny sack 
full of straw on his back, and by using his imagi- 
nation one would know it was meant for a saddle. 
It had no stirrups, and was almost as wide as the 
back of an elephant, but it is the style, so I had 
to take it or walk. 

While not stated in the contract, the horse 
was guaranteed not to go faster than a slow 

[224] 



FROM BOMBAY TO BELGRADE 

walk. I beat him with my cane, I coaxed him, I 
cursed him (in my heart,) I poked him, I kicked 
him, and once or twice I could discern a move- 
ment that indicated a very slow trot, but walk 
was the rule up, and up, and up. It took two 
hours longer to go up on the horse than it did for 
me to walk down. 

Prom Jerusalem, I went directly to Cairo. 
The pyramids are as wonderful as they are ad- 
vertised to be. They are just outside of Cairo 
and the tram runs out every hour. It crosses the 
Nile on the way, and runs through a very fertile 
valley of wheat and all kinds of garden vege- 
tables. The pyramids are on the edge of the 
desert. Beyond is the great trackless waste of 
sand and rock. The Sphynx stands down in a 
hollow just over the first ridge. It is a great 
piece of work. Great stone face and body of an 
animal. 

And now I am back in Port Said. There is 
no hope of any boat to England, or Italy from 
here. They are all full. So today I bought a 
ticket on a Greek boat which leaves tomorrow 
for Athens. It crosses the Mediterranean in 
three days; soon I will be standing on Mars hill, 
and seeing something of that marvelous old land 
that produced the Parthenon, Phillip of Mace- 
don, and Alexander the Great. There is a new 
railroad just completed from Athens to Paris. 

P. S. On the way to Jerusalem, I saw great 
herds of camels feeding in the desert. 150 in 

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DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

one bunch. And men in fields plowing with 
camels. 

In Jerusalem, in the hotel, they served 
raisins, almonds, nuts, oranges, and lemons, all 
grown in Palestine. 

In Cairo camels with great loads on their 
backs are on nearly every street. 

May 16. 
Belgrade, Kingdom of the Serbs, Croats and 

Slovenes. 
Dearest Family: 

In my last letter I told you that I was com- 
ing to Greece and from thence overland to Paris. 
I am on the way as this tale will indicate. 

I was unable to get a cabin on the Greek 
boat, so persuaded them to sell me deck space. 
That gave me the liberty of finding space on the 
deck to put a steamer chair, if nobody else got 
there first. Well, when I tell you that on a little 
dinky boat that should carry sixty passengers we 
had three hundred, you can realize how much 
deck space belonged to me. In fact just enough 
by tight squeezing for the chair, no place to walk 
and take exercise, no baths at all, and no food 
included in the ticket. 

I discovered four missionary ladies on the 
boat, two Scotch, a gray haired woman and her 
daughter, and two from the African Inland Mis- 
sion, who had come down the Nile by steamer 
from far up above Khartoum. One of these was 
from the Englewood church in Chicago. She 

[226] 



FROM BOMBAY TO BELGRADE 

knew many of the folks I did, so you see what 
a small place the world is after all. You can 
meet friends, or rather folks that know folks 
that you know most any where on earth. These 
four ladies had paid first class passage but had 
only the same chance for space that I had. They 
had chairs and all of us slept on deck the three 
nights from Port Said to Piraeus, which is the 
port of Athens. 

I never want another such journey. The 
small boat tossed on the waves of the blue Medi- 
terranean, and all my boasting of being a good 
sailor came to a bad end. I got it again. From 
my chair to the rear of the boat was about fifteen 
or twenty paces. The first time I made the dash 
there were three chairs to climb over, one con- 
taining a Greek priest with a black dress on 
like the French Friars wear. He had on a stove 
pipe hat, that is, it was like a section of a stove 
pipe cut off about eight inches high, with no rim 
at the bottom, and a little protruding roof at the 
top. He was my last hurdle, and I went over 
him a mile a minute, and looked with loving eyes 
down into the waters; this time really the "blue" 
waters of the inland sea. 

Having made my contribution, and said my 
prayers and bidden you all good bye, I went back 
to my chair to wait for the end. Having blazed 
the trail to the railing, and given warning to the 
folks on the way, I waited impatiently for the 
next trip, which I knew would soon be necessary. 
It came with great urgency, and I made it to the 

[227] 



DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

i 1 

railing in nothing flat. There was the log hang- 
ing on a long rope from the rear end of the boat. 
Having decided that I would go over and inves- 
tigate the log, I heard a sort of a "Who-o-o-p-e" 
sound to my right, and looking over I saw three 
ladies, two of them American, hanging over the 
rail and peering down as if looking for something 
they had lost. There was no sign up, "room to let" 
on the whole voyage. Two-thirds of the crowd 
were at it. One Englishman, three Americans, 
Egyptians, Armenians, Jews and proselytes, 
Greeks and barbarians all met on one common 
level at the railing of the ship. 

And it came to pass that we cast anchor and 
waited for day. When the sun was on his jour- 
ney one hour, the quarantine officer did come on 
board and said we could all land. And as I 
waited, lo, small boats did row out to our ship, 
and men standing up in the boats did call aloud 
in very poor English, "Row you to shore, 
mister?" 

I said unto one, "How much?" 

And when he had named a fair price I said 
unto him: 

"Is thy boat large enough also, to take the 
four ladies and their baggage?" 

And he said, "It is." 

And this he said not knowing what he said, 

for they were ladies that had exceeding much 

boxes, and trunks, and large grips, and sundry 

small parcels to a total number of twenty-five. 

[228] 



FROM BOMBAY TO BELGRADE 

When we had piled them all into the small boat 
and sat down there was not so much room as to 
where I should put my feet. 

And when we had landed, a Greek individual 
looking like a ruffian said unto me : 

"All this luggage must go through the cus- 
toms house." 

I said unto him, "It is not necessary." 

He said unto me, "It is." 

And I hired me a strong man and ordered 
him to tow these into the customs house. When 
he beheld them all he heaved a sigh, but when 
he had carried them in he heaved a still heavier 
sigh. And a man who looked as if he thought he 
had authority, said unto the gray haired lady : 

"Open thy trunk." 

And she opened it. And he did thrust his 
dirty hand down into the trunk, and displaced 
some clean clothes, and fumbled here and there 
for something he knew not what. And this he did 
because his forefathers had done it from the 
foundation of the world. 

And when he had done so, he told her to 
lock it up again, and he ordered me to hand up 
the next one. Whereupon I said unto him with 
some heat: 

"Man, this is all foolishness. We be Ameri- 
cans, we are passing through thy country in 
three or four days, and customs we pay not, nor 
should. Behold, even now, the pangs of hunger 
gnaw at our bowels for we have had nothing fit 
to eat in three days, and what we did have is no 

[229] 



DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

more. Lo, here are sixteen drachmas, a goodly- 
sum of thine own money, take it, put thy chalk 
mark upon our baggage and let us go." 

And when his miserly eyes saw the money, 
his countenance did change, and in five minutes 
he did put his chalk mark upon all our baggage, 
and soon we fell upon our breakfast like hungry 
wolves. 

When we had eaten we came by fast tram 
unto Athens, a fifteen minutes journey. And 
when I had found an hotel for the ladies, I went 
out to behold the city. I remembered a certain 
other traveler who had visited Athens, and so I 
went out to Mars hill where he did preach his 
famous sermon. Now, when I approached Mars 
hill walking alone at the close of the day, I be- 
held Greek boys and girls running about. Then 
I climbed up the solid stone stairway to the very 
top of Mars hill, and I stood upon the very spot, 
where Paul preached, and I also looked over the 
city and saw its beauty, and its picturesque 
mountain background, and the golden sunset. 

Hardby was the Acropolis, and I would 
fain enter there. A guide rose up out of the 
rocks somewhere, and said : 

"I will show it all to thee for five drachmas." 

And I said unto him, "Nay, but I will give 
thee two." 

And he showed me for two. The Acropolis is 
the ancient Athens, built on a high hill, with a 
stone wall around it, and some of its buildings 
date back to 400 or 500 B. C. And within the 

[230] 



FROM BOMBAY TO BELGRADE 

Acropolis is the Parthenon. The Parthenon is 
wonderful, built out of great marble rocks, 
beautifully carved as only the Greeks can 
carve them, and dedicated to the goddess 
who protects the ancient city. For further 
description, is it not written in the Encyclope- 
diae Britannica, also in the little book I will 
bring home with me? 

I walked up the streets of Athens, and be- 
hold, it is a beautiful city, nice stone buildings, 
and well laid out streets, and small parks, and 
flower men on the streets, and many book stores, 
and other fine stores, and street cars, and daily 
papers, and well dressed men, and women with 
high heels, and everything that a modern city 
has anywhere. And with it all I was well pleased. 

All aboard for Salonika, the first stop, or 
rather the first change on the way to Paris. 
When I left Athens, it was with the information 
that when I arrived at Salonika I could get a 
train direct to Paris, which would put me there 
in three days. Man is a hopeful animal. The 
trip up was great. Greece is a wonderful little 
country. It is progressive, the people are in- 
dustrious. They have fine farms and orchards, 
and nice towns and villages. The mountains on 
the way are wonderful, some of them in the far 
distance were covered with snow. 

There was an American lady on the train, a 
Red Cross nurse. She was very glad to see 
another American, so she introduced herself. She 

[231] 



DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

was going to the town on the border of Serbia 
and Greece. She told me that I would have to 
change at that town. We passed through a war 
torn country, with trenches in many places still 
visible, many old cannon, and old war trains ly- 
ing by the wayside. At noon I changed trains 
again, also secured some Serbian money. 

The difference between Greece and Serbia is 
very marked. First in the railroads. There was 
no first or second, all was third, and people piled 
on like cattle, soldiers by the score. No dining 
car, no restaurant at the stations, just here and 
there a station where bread without butter could 
be bought, and boiled eggs. Imagine the old 
man making a meal on bread and eggs, but I did 
it! When I arrived it was ten at night, and we 
should have been in at six. I got a boy to take 
me to the Red Cross rest house run by the Ameri- 
cans. 

I know you will be interested in the rest of 
that journey. We had to catch an early morn- 
ing train before breakfast. When we stopped 
at a little town, I went out and bought a loaf 
of warm thin bread. That was all we had 
for breakfast, but it tasted good. There are no 
water faucets on the train at all, so about eight 
o'clock, I got out and bought a large beerbottle 
from a Serbian woman who was selling water by 
the drink to the passengers. She refused to sell, 
but when I offered her five dinars, which is about 
a quarter she wilted and sold me bottle, water, 
and all. 
[232] 



FROM BOMBAY TO BELGRADE 

About eleven we came to a good sized town, 
and I discovered a Serb woman with two whole 
chickens, fresh baked, still warm. I bought one 
for fifteen dinars, also two thin loaves of bread 
about a foot long, and four boiled eggs. On this 
we made our dinner and supper, and I replen- 
ished the water bottle from place to place. We 
arrived in Belgrade at seven. Journey from 
Salonique three days, when I was going to be in 
Paris in three days! 

Why? War is the answer. You never saw 
such conditions of railroads. This country was 
entirely over run by the armies of the Germans, 
Turks, Austrians, and Bulgarians. Every mile 
of railroad was in their possession, every town 
and city was occupied. When the great push of 
the allies began, and the Germans were losing 
ground, as they retreated, they tore up the rail- 
roads, and wrecked the bridges. I guess there 
was not a railroad bridge in all Serbia that was 
not wrecked. They are just now getting half 
way back to normal. War is a terrible thing, for 
when it is over it takes years for people to get 
back to their normal pursuits. 

It took me all forenoon yesterday to get the 
vise of the French and Italian consuls and 
arrange about my ticket. Tomorrow I must get 
my money changed and get the Swiss vise. 
There was no room at the American rest house, 
so I am at a very good hotel, run by a Serbian 
who had a restaurant in New York city for five 
years. The American Doctor at the Red Cross 

[233] 



DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

has sent me word to come to see their work and 
take a meal with them. All over this country the 
Red Cross is doing a work of reconstruction, and 
a lot of the work is being done by women. They 
are going about it as systematically and as busi- 
ness like as any man could do. I am glad you 
paid our dues for another year. 

The Serbians as a race are backwards. They 
are slow, imitative, no initiative, poor organ- 
izers, not much national consciousness, just big 
slow plodding Slav animals. Their leaders have 
the military bug. The war is over, yet they are 
shipping troops from place to place, every town 
is full of troops, every train is fuller of them, and 
here in Belgrade every public building is guarded 
by troops with guns. Just what they are afraid 
of I do not know. 

Another thing, all Europe is too close to- 
gether for so many kings and kingdoms. Europe 
is not much more than half the size of the 
United States, yet in that small area are so 
many kings you can hardly count them. England 
still has a king. Italy has a king. Bulgaria has 
a king, Greece has a little king, Serbia, Monte- 
negro, Denmark, Norway and Sweden have 
kings, likewise Spain and Portugal. Then Ger- 
many, Austria, and Russia have lately shed their 
kings, but much that the kings stood for still 
remains. 

The daily papers from all these countries go 
into all the others, and each little king and 
people reads what the others are doing, and 

[234] 



FROM BOMBAY TO BELGRADE 

is jealous of, or admires and copies the 
others. Here in the hotel there are at least ten 
different daily papers in as many different 
tongues. People are scanning each paper to see 
what all the rest are doing. You have heard of 
some folks going broke to get an auto because 
their next door neighbor had one. Well that's 
my first strong impression of Europe. The whole 
continent is almost broke because the kings were 
trying to "keep up with the Joneses." That was 
what was the matter with the Kaiser, he wanted 
a bigger car with more attendants than any of 
his other neighboring kings. And to get it he was 
going to rob some of the rest of them. Poor old 
Europe, it isn't over yet. How they will ever get 
out of it is more than I can see. Sometime they 
will have to establish a United States of Europe, 
with one government, and one parliament or 
congress. 

Yours from the Balkan peninsula. 

Dad. 



[235] 



£fr^ 



(((f^, 



OJ 




THE HOME STRETCH 



THE HOME STRETCH 

May 21. 

Dearest Girls: 

I wrote you my last letter from Belgrade. I 
left there on the famous Oriental Express, which 
was advertised to get to Paris in fifty-six hours. 
When we arrived at the Italian border we were 
informed that there was a strike on in Italy and 
that the passengers had to change cars and go on 
an Italian train across Italy. 

We arrived in the famous city of Trieste 
which figured so prominently in the war, at eight 
o'clock the next morning. It is located at the 
upper end of the Adriatic. We stayed there all 
day which gave me time to get some money 
changed into Italian lire, and see something of 
the famous Italian city which has been under 
Austrian rule for so long, but which has been 
given back to Italy since the war. Great ships 
come and go in this beautiful Italian harbor. 

Soon after we left Milan we entered Switzer- 
land. I had not thought that I would get to see 
the Swiss mountains, but the Orient Express 
goes right up through the heart of Switzerland, 
and I have never seen such scenic beauty any 
where else in the world. Those wonderful Alps 

[239] 



DAD'S LETTERS ON A WORLD JOURNEY 

seem to be sort of "finished off" somehow. The 
Rockies are higher, but they always gave me the 
impression of being overgrown and sprawlly, but 
the Alps have the smug appearance of breeding 
and proper bringing up. Great rocky craggy 
mountains lifted their heads above us, and at 
each side of the train the fine mountain streams 
came tumbling down the rocky cliffs throwing 
their rainbows a thousand feet in the air. They 
simply frolicked in rainbows. 

The famous Simplon tunnel, I learned is 
seventeen miles long, the longest tunnel in the 
world. Before we entered the tunnel the rivers 
and streams were flowing toward us, when we 
came out they were all flowing in the direction 
we were going. Which showed that we crossed 
the mountains at their highest point. 

It was after we left Lake Geneva that we 
passed the Matterhorn. The Matterhorn has 
always been a literary mountain to me, and it was 
with a good deal of awe that I looked up at 
a mountain that I had always associated with 
books, and saw the real thing before me. It is 
one of a number of high peaks only it stands out 
as the "super" mountain among all the rest. I 
remembered instantly, when I saw that mountain, 
of a Presbyterian preacher named Smith, at 
Humboldt, Nebraska, describing it in a sermon. 

Smith was a very tall man, with a rugged 
face, and a big mouth which expanded from ear 
to ear when he preached. I have the picture dis- 
tinctly in my mind of how he towered that night, 
[240] 




9 

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THE HOME STRETCH 



his long bony arms high in the air as if he would 
reach to the very top of the Matterhorn, with 
mouth extended as if in holy awe and admira- 
tion of the grandeur before him. Without Smith 
I would never have gotten the full benefit of the 
Matterhorn. He rather personified and glorified 
the thing for me. 

How can I make you understand Paris, and 
the spirit of Paris? Take for instance, the clean- 
liness. It is a very clean city, and nearly all of 
the stores, shops, and offices, are closed on Mon- 
day for cleaning. The great art galleries are 
open every day to the public, except on Monday, 
"cleaning day." The streets are clean, the taxis 
clean, the great buildings are clean, even the 
beautiful Seine, which flows through the heart 
of the city is clean. It is not muddy along the 
banks, but walled up with rocks, with green 
grass and trees and beautiful walks. 

And strange wonder of cities, it has a plan. 
The Arc de Triompe or Arch of Triumph stands 
in the center of a very wide street on a high 
elevation of ground. Into that center run twelve 
streets, so that that most beautiful arch in all 
Europe can be seen from every direction. And 
the art with which it is constructed! Great 
scenes in groups of statuary on every side. One 
shows the triumph of Napoleon after the peace 
of Vienna. Another the taking of Alexandria. 

It is 160 feet high, it cost about $2,000,000. 
On May 5, the anniversary of Napoleon's death, 
crowds of people assemble here to watch the set- 

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ting of the sun through the arch whose great 
opening exactly frames the sun as it sinks below 
the horizon. What people but the French could 
have dreamed, and constructed such an arch of 
beauty and grandeur? 

Then there is the Place de la Concorde. It 
is said to be the most elegant place or open court 
of any city in existence. It is a great open square 
of nearly four blocks, with wide tree-lined streets 
running into it. In the very center rises the 
Obelisk of Luxor, 76 feet high and weighing 240 
tons. It was brought here from Egypt by Louis 
Phillippe, during his reign. It is the sister or 
brother monolith of Cleopatra's needle at 
Alexandria. It stands on the spot where Marie 
Antoniette, Louis XVI, and about two thousand 
others were beheaded by the guillotine during 
the French revolution and the Reign of Terror. 

On each side of the Obelisk is a great foun- 
tain of bronze, with bronze sculptoring. At the 
outer edge of the place on the corner stand rep- 
resentations of eight cities of France. Lyons, 
Marseilles, Bordeaux, Nantes, Rouen, Brest, Lille 
and Strasbourg, which is in Alsace Lorrain and 
just recovered from the Germans. Streams of 
traffic go to and fro through the Place de la Con- 
corde, and well dressed men and women hurry 
through this wonderful place day and night. 

I visited the Louvre, the most famous place 
of art in Europe and perhaps in the whole world. 
What marvelous sculptoring, and what famous 
paintings are lodged there. And how the people 

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of Paris and France love it, and flock there by 
the thousands daily to see it, and how the rising 
young artists come there, to study and brood and 
dream of the day when some new creation from 
their own hands and brain will have the recogni- 
tion of the nation, and have a place in this 
artist's hall of fame. Strange to say the govern- 
ment recognizes these artists as servants of the 
public good. 

I visited the famous cathedral of Notre 
Dame. It is impossible to describe it. I had a 
picture in my mind of this old cathedral from 
Victor Hugo's Les Miserables. It tells of Jean 
Valjean in trying to escape from his pursuers 
getting up on the high towers of Notre Dame and 
hanging over the side with his seemingly super- 
human strength while his pursuers passed by. 
That part of the story made my blood run cold, 
so vividly did Hugo picture the man hanging 
hundreds of feet in the air where a slip of the 
hand would have dashed him to death on the 
streets below. 

Notre Dame was founded in 1163, but is on 
the site of a church that dates back to the fourth 
century. The two great towers were built in the 
thirteenth century. The carvings on the outside 
of the entrance represent the last judgment. 
Above these is a row of niches in which are the 
statues of twenty-eight Kings of Israel and 
Judah. There are three great "rose windows" 
42 feet in diameter, with costly stained glass. 
The cathedral when full will hold twenty thous- 

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and people. There are chapels small and great 
in different parts of the great building. 

There is one place called the treasury, which 
contains fragments of the crown of thorns, 
which some Frenchman long ago claimed to 
have brought from Jerusalem. Also the true 
cross of Christ, and a nail from the cross. Also 
Napoleon's coronation robe, and other precious 
relics. It was during the first Revolution, that 
this great and sacred cathedral was turned into 
a "Temple of Reason" and Paris went mad with 
her revulsion against religion and the hypocrisy 
of the state, and the state church. So they 
brought dancing girls into Notre Dame, and 
thousands assembled to see these girls do the 
modern dances in the very sanctuary of the 
church. But Napoleon restored it in 1802, and 
was crowned here by the Pope in 1804. 

And what shall I say of the rest of Paris. 
Of the library, the largest in the world? The 
Eiffel tower, the highest structure built by man, 
nearly twice as high as Washington's monu- 
ment? Of the Opera House, the largest and finest 
in the world? Of the church of St. Mary Mag- 
deleine, which Napoleon intended to erect as a 
Temple of Victory, which cost when complete 
about $2,500,000? And the Musee de Luxem- 
bourg, where the work of the sculptors is kept 
for twenty years after their death before it is 
allowed to go into the Louvre? And the Ven- 
dome Column, statue of Napoleon, 142 feet high 

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molded out of cannon which he captured in his 
wars? Oh I tell you Paris is a wonder. 

Seven miles away is Versailles. I saw the 
palace of mirrors, where the peace treaty was 
signed. In the same building where the Kaiser 
was crowned Emperor of all Germany after they 
conquered France in 1871, the German delegates 
had to eat crow, and sign a treaty drawn up by 
the Allies. And in another room of the same 
building, was signed the treaty with England in 
1783, that recognized the independence of the 
United States. In this palace Marie Antoinette 
lived, also other French rulers just and unjust. 
What marvelous gardens, and fountains that 
only play once a week. The whole thing, palace, 
gardens, fountains, sculptoring, took fifty years 
in the building. 

And the French cooking! The same artistic 
elegance that produced the Louvre and Notre 
Dame is put also into the biscuits, and rolls, and 
the coffee, and fried eggs. A French meal is a 
work of art, served by artists, clean as can be, 
seasoned to a queen's taste, or better to a Nebras- 
kan's taste. I have had nothing like it on the 
whole trip. Do you hear me, Paris is a wonder? 
And the French people are artists, and when I 
stood with uncovered head at the tomb of Lafay- 
ette, I was glad that he had not only made 
known to us the French fighting spirit, but the 
fine elegance, and the gentlemanly courtesy 
which he embodied as a true representative of 
the finest and best of the French nation. You 

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can't imagine a man like Lafayette being raised 
on weenie wursts and sauerkraut! 

London, May 24. 

No, I did not come on the daily aeroplane 
that flies between Paris and London. In spite of 
weather conditions, it makes the trip nearly 
every day. Only the other day a London fruit 
dealer advertised in the afternoon, fresh straw- 
berries for sale that had been brought from Paris 
that morning by aeroplane. 

Arriving at Havre, we took a British boat 
with a sleeper, and the next morning woke up in 
Southampton. Would you believe it, the pass- 
port department, and the customs department 
had system, and order. None of the wild mad 
scramble that I have seen at every other customs 
inspection around the world. The officials were 
all gentlemen, the porters were gentlemanly and 
respectful, the railroad conductors were pleasant, 
and helpful. It seemed like getting among my 
own folks again to get in quiet, courteous, 
orderly England. 

A fine run of two and a half hours without 
stop brought us to the metropolis of the world. 
What a crowd there was, which went flowing out 
of Waterloo station. We came upon traffic going 
in all directions, in every conceivable way that a 
modern city could produce. Taxis, automobiles, 
great motor buses, street cars on the ground, 
above the ground, and under the ground. Car- 
riages drawn by one horse, and two horses, with 
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drivers with red breeches and stove pipe hats, 
trucks, two wheeled carts drawn by large bony 
horses. The streets were jammed full of this 
kind of traffic, and one walking found it almost 
impossible to cross without the aid of a police- 
man. 

I wondered how so much traffic kept on the 
move without accident, but that wonder was 
soon satisfied. At every street corner and in the 
middle of many streets stand the traffic police- 
men, directing the drivers with the nod of their 
head, and a crook of their finger. There was no 
loud yelling, and scolding, and brutal bulldozing, 
but a quiet brainy direction of traffic, in which 
the drivers co-operated as well as policemen. 
Four or five streams of traffic flowed up and down 
those crowded streets like little rivers, two flow- 
ing in each direction, with sometimes one in the 
middle. Having spent a week in London, and 
seen the work of these men in Piccadily, the 
Strand, Trafalgar square, Leicester Square, and 
the other busy centers, I take off my hat to the 
London policeman, the real traffic artist of the 
world. 

I went to see St. Paul's, the noted cathedral. 
It has its great hall and many chapels, but the 
chief place of interest is in the basement, which 
is a graveyard where many of the notables of 
England are buried. Chiefest of these are Lord 
Nelson, the great naval hero of England, and the 
Duke of Wellington. The tomb of Nelson is 
directly under the great dome, hence the place of 

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prominence. But when they buried the Duke 
later, so great was his place in the hearts of the 
English, they took the next most prominent 
place in the building and put up a much better 
tomb in his memory. 

At the far end of the building was the great 
bronze funeral car that carried the Duke ol Wel- 
lington to the church. It is made of cannon 
captured by him in his wars. He lay in state for 
about two or three weeks while they were mold- 
ing this great car. Up in the top the coffin was 
placed. The huge car was drawn, I think by 
twelve horses to the church. Perhaps no such 
funeral has ever been held in all Europe before 
or since. For Napoleon had struck terror into 
the hearts of Europe, and the Duke of Welling- 
ton was the conqueror of Napoleon, so they 
idolized the great warrior. 

You may remember the little couplet: 

The Duke of Wellington had a large 

nose, 
So large that it scared away all his foes, 
Even to the wicked old Bonaparte. 

Excuse me, that's triplets, isn't it? Anyway, 
on top of the tomb is a large bronze, or is it 
marble statue, of him. I took particular notice 
of his nose, and it is a beauty, a very large per- 
fect Roman nose. I felt like climbing up and 
shaking hands with the old boy. 

The other men buried here are mostly mili- 
tary heroes also. 
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Up in the dome is the whispering gallery, 
where a whisper can be heard for one hundred 
and eight feet across or rather around the dome 
on the inside. Large paintings in one dome rep- 
resent Biblical scenes, like St. Paul's conversion, 
etc. It is well done throughout. 

After St. Paul's one turns to the most famous 
of all English cathedrals, Westminster Abbey. It 
is the blue ribbon place of them all. It dates 
back to the seventh century. It has been 
changed from time to time until the present 
marvelous structure was completed. I have never 
seen anything like it. 

The inside, and what it stands for is the 
thing of supreme interest. It also is a burial 
ground, but mostly on the main floor, and not in 
the basement as at St. Paul's. Many of the 
famous statesmen and literary men are buried 
here. One transept, or wing has what they call 
the poet's corner. In the floor is a marble slab 
telling the name and date. Here lie the remains 
of Chaucer, Spenser, with Browning and Tenny- 
son side by side. Also Samuel Johnson, Lord 
Macauly, and Dickens. 

In the statesmen's corner are William Pitt, 
and Charles James Fox, rivals in politics. The 
couplet in "Marmion" says: 

"Drop upon Fox's grave the tear, 
'Twill trickle to his rival's bier." 

Gladstone is also buried here. 

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These chapels are crowded with all kinds of 
monuments of famous men. A person may sit in 
the pew to hear the sermon, and on either side 
he can see a score of monuments of great men 
of the past, and under his feet he may be tramp- 
ling on the mortal remains of kings. Not so bad, 
is it, to have a king's grave for a foot stool, while 
you listen, or sleep in church as the case may be? 

You are no sooner in the great building and 
see these graves and monuments, than you begin 
to ask where the grave of Livingstone is. 
The rector guide said that more people ask where 
the grave of Livingstone is, than about that 
of any other person buried there. In the middle 
of the large room, is a plain marble slab, telling 
a few simple facts about the life of the famous 
missionary and explorer. It must have been a 
great day, when they brought his body from over 
the seas, to rest in that world renowned burial 
place. Not so much pomp and ceremony as when 
the Duke of Wellington was taken into St. Paul's, 
but no doubt as wonderful a service as the world 
ever saw. 

You have read in English history about the 
"Tower." I had always supposed that it was 
some kind of a high tower where they kept and 
beheaded prisoners. Imagine my surprise then, 
when I arrived to find a large high stone wall en- 
closure, with several buildings inside. All this 
is called the Tower. In the old days there used 
to be a moat around it, but now that is removed, 
and the bottom of the moat is a fine gravel walk. 

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In those days this Tower was a fortress and 
palace of the kings. 

Inside the walls is one tower called the 
White Tower. This one is where the old kings 
lodged until the day of their coronation, when 
they rode in a great procession through the 
streets to Westminster Abbey, where they were 
crowned. The kings are still crowned at West- 
minister, in the old Coronation chair made by 
Edward I; for the coronation of his son. The 
chair looks rather seedy, but all the kings have 
been crowned in it from that day to this. 

In the Tower is a room containing the 
crown jewels of England. I saw the crowns of 
the king and queen and prince of Wales, all set 
with diamonds and precious stones. They are 
enclosed in glass surrounded by an iron railing, 
which is charged with electricity, so that it is 
impossible for anyone to steal them. The crown 
of King Edward, father of the present King 
George, contains 2818 diamonds, and the crown 
of King George worn at Delhi, India, where he 
went to be crowned Emperor of India in 1911, 
contains emeralds and sapphires and 6170 dia- 
monds. 

There is also a gold Anointing spoon, dating 
back to the 12th century, used for the anointing 
of the king. It is a huge spoon. The Royal Salt 
cellar is there also, made of gold and set with 
precious stones, used at the royal banquet after 
the coronation. It is some salt cellar, a big thing 
also set in diamonds, and cost about $15,000, 

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made in the 17th century. There is some style 
when they crown a king in old England! 

In an open court is the place where they 
used to execute their political prisoners. Lord 
Hastings was executed here 1483, Queen Ann 
Boleyn also 1536, Queen Katherine fifth, wife of 
Henry VIII, who established the church of Eng- 
land. Also Lady Jane Grey, 1554. No wonder 
one of the towers is called the Bloody tower. The 
history of the tower is almost the history of 
England itself. 

Another place of unusual interest is the 
British Museum. Here are the relics of many of 
the ancient places of the world. The great stone 
horses with heads of men, that were excavated in 
Assyria. Many Egyptian mummies. A number 
of the pieces of the Parthenon of Athens. 
Roman relics of all descriptions. All kinds of an- 
tiques, and vases, busts and statues of men, 
ancient and modern. You can imagine a little 
of it by the names of the rooms. Roman 
Gallery, Room of Greek Sculpture, Ephesus 
room, Nereid room, Phigaleian room, Egyptian 
Galleries, Assyrian room, Nineveh gallery, 
Department of Printed books room, where hun- 
dreds of very old and valuable manuscripts are 
kept. It would take a person a full week to see 
all of the Museum, let alone taking time to care- 
fully study it. 

The National Gallery is a close rival to the 
Louvre. I had an afternoon there, studying the 
paintings of artists, old and new. I saw the 
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much talked of "Madonna" by Raphael, which 
cost the gallery $350,000. Also the "Duchess of 
Milan" by Holbein for which they paid $360,000. 

Amidst all this, and a thousand other places 
of beauty and interest, the people of London live. 
Many of them know nothing of these wonderful 
places of culture and refinement. All they know 
is the race course, the movie, their broad A's and 
their afternoon tea. On the other hand, thous- 
ands visit these places every week, and thus build 
"more stately mansions" for their souls. 

And in the midst of it all, and possibly the 
center, is the modern prison of the king namely, 
Buckingham Palace. I could not get away from 
the feeling that to all intents and purposes the 
king is a sort of useful prisoner, with certain 
liberties allowed him. Buckingham Palace is 
surrounded by a high iron fence, and at every 
gate, corner, and between gates and corners, are 
soldiers with their guns, parading up and down. 

A policeman told me that the king was to 
go out at eleven thirty to lay a corner stone for 
some public building, and if I was there about an 
hour before hand I might get a good place to 
stand. I was there. During that hour of wait- 
ing, they changed guards. The band marched 
down from somewhere, into one of the gates 
that had been opened. Then came the new 
guard, about twenty of them. They stood for a 
while before the palace, while the band played, 
and two officers walked up and down in front as 

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if to make certain that the King did not get away 
before the appointed time. 

Then an officer took a squad of the new 
guard, marched them around to where one of the 
old guard was standing. One man left the ranks 
and stood at attention beside the old guard. Then 
the officer picked up an old piece of thick card 
board and read off in an impossible-to-under- 
stand monotonous voice, the instructions printed 
thereon. The new guard paid no attention to 
what was being read, and when I winked at him, 
he winked his off eye, and suddenly discovered 
that the officer had finished. He gave a quick nod 
of the head and the squad moved on to the next, 
where the same process was repeated. After a 
half hour of such manuevering, they got the new 
guard installed for the day. 

About eleven fifteen, thirty horsemen, with 
tall hats, and gaily colored coats, some with red 
breeches, rode up, and entered the big middle 
gate of the palace, and disappeared through the 
opening in the center court. A little later the 
king's carriage drove from the royal stables in 
the rear, around to the front, and disappeared 
through the same opening. The crowd by this 
time had grown to three or four thousand. The 
policeman had moved us four different times. 
One man would tell us where to stand. Later 
he moved on, other policemen drifted in, and 
each new set had to show a little authority, so 
moved the crowd over to some more incon- 
venient spot. That seemed to be the chief 

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business of the policemen, to keep the crowd as 
uncomfortable as possible. 

Finally a fellow with a tall hat, red breeches, 
and a pompous air, took his place just on the out- 
side of the entrance, and stood with his hand at 
salute. The next moment out came about twenty 
of the mounted policemen, and following them 
was the king's carriage, and behind that were ten 
more mounted policemen. The king's carriage 
was drawn by four horses, two abreast, with a 
rider in red breches on each of the two left hand 
horses. The carriage contained two seats facing 
each other. In the rear seat was the king and 
queen, and in the other Princess Mary. The king 
wore a stove pipe hat, and lifted it from time to 
time, but he does not do it nearly so well as does 
President Wilson. The Queen's hat was rather 
unbecoming. It looked as if some department 
store milliner had made her take it against her 
will, simply because it was the fashion. Princess 
Mary was rather prim, and a bright looking girl. 
So these prisoners came forth, at the appointed 
time, escorted in state, and went down town, and 
bowed, and did as they were told to do, and then 
came back and the gates were locked, and they 
were allowed their peace until the next occasion 
requires their royal presence. 

If you read Roosevelt's letters about the 
kings of Europe in the March and April Scrib- 
ner's you will get a good idea of how these 
men are mere figureheads. He says that no 
one who has a real ambition to be an indepen- 

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dent citizen, would want to be a king. But thus 
it has been in England, and it seems that the 
Englishman does not object to being taxed to 
keep up this show of royalty. As long as they 
like it, and are willing to pay the bills, why 
should we Americans object? 

Selah, 
Dad. 



On the Atlantic 

Today I bid farewell to London and sunny 
England. Farewell Thames, with your innum- 
erable docks and boats of every kind and descrip- 
tion, without doubt the busiest river in the 
world. Farewell old world, and now my face is 
turned toward the new. Oh, for the speed of an 
aeroplane. 

We have made great time on the good ship 
Port Bowen for several days. But yesterday a 
great storm was raging. Far into the night I 
could hear the roaring of the wind, and feel the 
quiver of the ship as the huge waves dashed 
against it. 

We're now in the Gulf Stream. Its flow puts 
the ship back about thirty miles a day. We have 
met several large steamers bound for France 
and England. News has come over the wireless 
that Harding has been nominated for President. 
We get wireless reports every day of the baseball 
games. 
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How slowly we travel! It seems a month 
since leaving London. Just over the hill is New 
York and home. 

New York is in sight at last. How good it 
looks even on the far off horizon. 

Inspection is over, quarantine is past, and 
we are approaching the Goddess of Liberty. How 
wonderful the statue looks. American flags are 
streaming from the top and the flags of all 
nations are much in evidence. It is Flag Day — 
June 14th. About 5,000 school children have 
crossed over to the statue and are participating 
in the Flag Day celebration. The cannon are 
booming out their salutes. What a wonderful 
welcome home. And here's the sky line. Noth- 
ing quite like it anywhere else on the globe. An 
Englishman wants to know how high the Wool- 
worth Building is. Brother, ask the girl in the 
first ten cent store. Hudson river, tug boats, the 
Battery, New York, America, Home! And now 
for the fastest Pennsylvania train! 
New York, June 14th. Telegram — 

Hurrah for Uncle Sam and the U. S. A. Just 

landed safe and sound. Home for dinner 

tomorrow. Kill the calf. I'm hungry for 

some home cooking. 

DAD. 



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